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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261130">Dribbles &amp; Drabs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyamesindy/pseuds/ladyamesindy'>ladyamesindy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Miscellaneous Mass Effect Stories [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mass Effect, Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Angst, Claustrophobia, Death, F/M, Friendship, Grief, Implied Torture, Implied abuse, Kissing, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attack, Pillow Fight, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sniper Rifles, Violence, Whump, blood mention, fshenko - Freeform, mShenko, some Irish language included, some vague hint and description of battle wounds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:42:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>75,443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyamesindy/pseuds/ladyamesindy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of writings that were prompted over on tumblr and for which I have no other place to give them a home.  An ongoing work with no particular posting timeline.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abigail Williams/Major Coats, Female Ryder | Sara/Reyes Vidal, Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard, Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard, Reyes Vidal/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Miscellaneous Mass Effect Stories [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Water, Need, Shenko</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For a Kissing Meme.  Prompt:  Water/Need/Shenko</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kaidan wakes with a start, gasping for breath, his heart racing as the sudden and inexplicable knowledge that something isn’t quite right tightens in his chest.  It takes a minute to fight his way through the foggy haze of sleep and find focus; exhaustion is a killer on duty …  He frowns and blinks.  <em>Saren and Sovereign are gone; we aren’t on duty …?</em></p><p>Pushing himself up, the sheets drape across his lap.  The room is dark, that blacker-than-black that inevitably results in bumps and bruises.  A breeze filters in through the window, gently caressing his cheek and tousling sleep-mussed hair across his forehead.</p><p>
  <em>Window …</em>
</p><p>It’s as he pushes the sheets aside and stands that the final pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place.  Still, he inhales sharply; barely a week since the near-miss that he will never casually accept.  The scent of rain tickles his nose mixing with the salty brine of the sea.  Panic fades just a fraction, breathing eases.</p><p>He grabs a robe and ignores the sash that falls to the ground as he slips it over his shoulders.  The wooden floors are cool beneath his feet.  Exiting the room, he turns left then left again, his soft grunt a reminder of his earlier observation. </p><p>Like the bedroom, the living room is dark.  But the door is closed and locked, just as it was when he went to bed.  <em>No midnight stroll on the beach then.</em>  Another breeze drifts in through the window, this one stronger though not violent, and tickles across the back of his neck.  Though dark, it is marginally brighter in here, but he is alone.  Again.  The panic flutters to life again within his chest.</p><p>A flash of light outside, beyond the glass doors to the balcony, catches his attention.  His breath stops again but in relief at the familiar shape silhouetted there.  Quickly, quietly, silently, he crosses the distance and slips outside.  Joining her at the railing, he leans over and rests his arms.  “How long this time?” he asks in a voice still raspy from sleep.</p><p>Her lips curl slightly and she ignores the way the wind toys with the coppery silk strands of her hair.  “Fifteen minutes,” she replies, the smirk settling into place.  “Give or take.”</p><p>The ache returns in a rush without his permission as lightning flashes again, and it is impossible to miss the ragged outline of torn flesh highlighted against her cheek.  A raw, still healing wound, the only evidence left of her battle against the rogue spectre and reaper.  Without thinking, he lifts his hand and lightly brushes the skin below it with his thumb.  He only sees her flinch because he expects it.  She is a master at hiding her reactions, her emotions.  He pulls back, but she’s quicker, and her smaller hand wraps around his wrist with surprising strength. </p><p>“No.”</p><p>It’s a battle neither will win, so he compromises instead, dropping his hand to rest on her shoulder.  “Can’t sleep?”</p><p>She looks up at him.  Absently, he notices the first sprinkling drops of rain hit her forehead, her other cheek, the bridge of her nose, as if imitating the spatter of freckles that mark the skin.  “Something like that.  Didn’t want to wake you.”</p><p>It’s an old argument, another he knows neither will win, but this time he has to respond.  “What if I want you to?”</p><p>A flash of bright light surrounds them, he sees the reflection in her eyes.  She closes the distance between them, pushing herself up on her toes until she is barely an inch away.  “Do you?” </p><p>The flash he sees in her eyes this time has little to do with the threatening storm above them.  Without breaking eye contact, he replies, “I d-.”</p><p>Before he finishes speaking, her lips capture his and devour.  He’s caught off guard; not a surprise where she’s concerned.  It’s been that way almost since their first meeting.  He loses his balance, catching his hip at the last second against the railing.  When she pulls back, their foreheads remain touching.  He greedily fills his lungs.  “The things you do to me, Shep-.”</p><p>Soft, sensual laughter wraps around him, her lips finding purchase once more.  She pauses between kisses once, twice, murmuring, “Inside.  Now.”</p><p>The skies above open up, pouring over them.  A grin pulls at his lips through the contact, and he teases, “Is that an order, commander?”</p><p>Using her tongue, she traces the shape of his lips.  This time, he’s prepared, catching her by the waist and lifting her closer.  She expects the move, or perhaps hopes for it, and winds her legs around him quickly which leaves him free to move them inside.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. By the River, Power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kissing Prompt Meme:  By the River, Power.  Have a bit of Ryn Bailey and Reyes Vidal from my Exilium-verse!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The shot echoes loudly through the cavern.  A moment later, Sloane’s body falls to the ground, her last words a disbelieving grunt before the deadweight hits with a thud.  Ryn rises and hops down from her hide to join Reyes and the Pathfinder.  She is unable to speak, however, as a tidal wave of unexpected anger rushes through her until she sees red.  Their eyes meet for a moment, briefly, and hers flare; blue tinged green reflecting in his.  She pauses, just the briefest of hesitation, to shove the sniper rifle against his chest.  Only then does she break eye contact and walk away without looking back.</p><p>Exiting the cavern takes some minutes; funny it didn’t seem to take as long on the walk in.  Outside, she tilts her head to the sky and closes her eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun.  It’s a few minutes before she hears steps behind her.  <em>His </em>steps.  She knows them well, recognizes the sound of his boots against any surface, his weight.</p><p>
  <em>I could have lost you, you idiot!</em>
</p><p>She bites the inside of her lip to keep herself silent, afraid if she lets it out it won’t ever stop, and walks down the hill.  There is a river nearby; a stream, really, just a hint of wet and blue as it winds its way over Kadara’s rocky terrain.  But at this point, Ryn cares not how large it is, just that it’s there.  A destination.  Something real.  Something … alive.</p><p>It takes minutes to get there, and by then her limbs tremble almost uncontrollably.  She drops to her knees and scoops cool wetness into her hands.  For just a moment, she stares at it in bewilderment.  Just days ago, it was something dangerous, violent.  A killer in its own right.  But now, thanks to the Pathfinder, Kadara is changing.  The only potency left in it now is to clean or quench thirst.  </p><p>Closing her eyes, she throws it over her face, embracing the tickle of tiny rivulets that squirm beneath her collar, each in a race to see which travels furthest.  When she opens her eyes again, she catches the hint of multitudinous rainbows fringing her lashes as the sun shines down upon her.  When she blinks, they disappear.</p><p>She rises to her feet with effort, the strain of the day catching up to her, but she spins around on her heel with pistol in her hand, leveled at him with no trouble at all.  He’s there; of course, he’s there.  “You son of a bitch!” she hisses, anger snapping in her eyes now matched only by the barest haze of blue that spreads around her body. </p><p>He stands in silence and casually leans against the rocks.  One arm is akimbo, but his face is painted with his trademark smug smirk.</p><p>Approaching him, pistol still pointed, her eyes lock onto his.  She doesn’t stop until mere inches separate them.  “You could have been <em>killed</em>!”</p><p>The smirk broadens a fraction.  “That’s why I asked for you,” he replies calmly.  Reaching out, he runs his fingers in a light caress from her temple across her cheek.  “Your reputation precedes you.”</p><p>She’s quick, capturing his wrist in her hand, yanking it away.  Her jaw tightens as a growl rises in her throat.  “And if Sloane refused your duel?”  She blows a heavy puff of air up toward her forehead to chase away the wisps of hair that knocked free by his touch and now tickle her temple. </p><p>“She had no choice.”  A mischievous twinkle flashes in his dark eyes.  “Don’t you trust me, Ryn?”</p><p>She releases him, jams her pistol back into place with one hand and slides the other around to the back of his head.  Anger is her fuel, adrenaline, desire, and perhaps a bit of biotic assistance, but she pulls him close.  Her lips slide over his, all hunger and desperate greed.  When she pulls back for air, she opens her eyes to find … sympathy, empathy. </p><p>Suddenly, it’s too much.  The anger drains from her in a rush and she entwines her hands in his armor to keep herself upright.  One of his hands covers hers, and she drops her forehead to his chest.  “I-I can’t lose you,” she rasps.  “Not now … not yet … not to someone like Sloane!”  He chuckles softly; not in amusement, and certainly not to demean.  This is the laughter of one who <em>understands.  </em>He has been in her shoes before and lost.</p><p>His free hand moves beneath her chin, gently guiding upward so their eyes meet again.  The smirk, she notices, is still in place, perhaps a bit more smugly than before.  “Certainly not to someone like Sloane,” he agrees with a wink.</p><p>In a heartbeat, her world rights itself.  She groans, drawing back, a snort of disgusted amusement escaping as she shoves him away and reluctantly laughs, but her smile is genuine.</p><p>It takes a moment or two for her to regain her composure.  A deep breath, then another, she finally catches her breath and demands, “Okay, where is it?”</p><p>One brow lifts innocently and starts walking back in the direction of the cavern.  “Where is what?” he calls over his shoulder.</p><p>“Reyes!”  Ryn picks up her pace and follows.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Over and Over Again Until It's Nothing But Senseless Babble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>From the The Way You Said "I Love You" Prompts:  over and over again, til it's nothing but a senseless babble</p><p> </p><p>A few things.  1) This went a bit angstier than I expected.  Sorry, not sorry.  2) This scene is based off the premise of the MEHEM ending mod where Shepard is rescued before the Normandy leaves.  3) This is my first attempt at even hinting at mshenko, let alone writing it.  I hope it works!  4) Sorry for some of the vagueness around what the doctor is doing.  I have no practical experience in the medical profession, nor do I have any idea what equipment (other than basics) would be called.  Plus, this was in response to a prompt and I didn’t want to take forever trying to research it (she says 1200 words later … oops!).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The hull of the <em>Normandy </em>shakes violently, the creaks and groans of duress saturating the room.  Kaidan, not for the first time, or even the fifteenth, since he was deposited in the medbay wonders if she’ll hold together this time.  Memories of another <em>Normandy</em> flood his consciousness without permission; he desperately shoves them back into the shadows from whence they sprang.  He cannot, <em>will</em> not, retreat to the past.  Not now.  Not when the fate of the galaxy is at stake.  Not when Shepard’s <em>life</em> is at stake. </p><p>He finds an ally in an unexpected place when the doors to the room slide open, pulling him from the tempting tendrils.  It isn’t the familiar whoosh, but rather the authority permeating Dr. Chakwas’ bark that catches his attention; she dishes out orders to the crewmen assisting her with absolute precision and command.  It reminds him of Sergeant Allan, the harshest, nastiest drill sergeant he ever met at basic.  He can only hope she survived the attack on Luna Base so many months ago.</p><p>Biting back a groan, he pushes himself up on his good shoulder, straining to see who it is they carry.  The lights are dim back here; Chakwas is afraid he’ll spike a migraine after everything, and she still hasn’t cleared him through concussion protocols.    </p><p>They deposit their burden on an examination table in the front of the room.  Makes sense’ the light is brighter and instruments are just steps away.  Everyone but Aguilera leaves, and he hops at her every command.  Even now, he pulls out the portable privacy screens that cut off Kaidan’s view.</p><p>Pain wracks Kaidan’s body, but he finds a sitting position.  Corporal Aguilera is bright and has the makings of a good field medic, given time and experience, but Kaidan is better.  His years working with Chakwas, to his way of thinking, will serve her better.  “Doc?  Can I -?”</p><p>“Not <em>now, </em>Major!” the doctor barks, effectively ending the conversation.  She quickly barks another order at Aguilera.  The corporal doesn’t hesitate.</p><p>Kaidan lands on his feet with a resounding thud and hobbles in the doctor’s direction.  His armor was removed when he was brought in, but not his boots, and the clunk and rattle of each step echoes loudly throughout the room.  The ship suddenly shudders violently beneath his feet; he catches himself on the edge of an examination table, Aguilera falls gracelessly on his ass with an embarrassed yelp, and the doctor curses a blue streak, as unexpected as it is vehement.  Kaidan knows if she is losing her cool, the situation is bad.  All the more reason he needs to assist.  Finding his balance, Kaidan limps over, pauses only at the storage shelf when the doctor shouts, then continues on his way.  He moves around the privacy screen, already handing over the device to Chakwas … until his gaze lands on the patient and he has to catch himself again.  Aguilera moves in for support.</p><p>Chakwas throws a sharp look in his direction.  “Major, get back to your -!”</p><p>Kaidan shakes his head, half in defiance of her command and half to clear it.  His eyes meet hers; a battle of wills ensues.  It ends when he digs deep, finds his resolve, and manages in a stronger, firmer voice, “No.” </p><p>“Suit yourself,” she snaps, “but I need you focused if you insist on helping.” </p><p>Her words have the bite of command behind them, even to him, but Kaidan doesn’t mind.  It helps him transition to autopilot.  Inhaling deeply, he glances down to assess the severity of the situation.  He bites back a wince.  Shepard’s body lies on the table before him, bruised and battered.  To call him a ‘bloody mess,’ is inadequate; his armor is all but destroyed, parts of it completely gone, others melted to his flesh.  Burns, blood, gore and god knows what else cover him from head to toe.  </p><p>Kaidan struggles for another breath, fights as despair snakes its way back.  For one moment, it catches hold.  <em>Can anyone recover from wounds this bad?</em> </p><p>A gasp, rough and harsh, echoes through the medbay.  Kaidan is drawn first to the movement of Shepard’s chest, then upward.  It is shocking to find Shepard’s eyes open, the piercing blue surrounded by such destruction.  It takes a moment to realize they are searching, unfocused.  Hope slams hard into Kaidan’s chest, the echo of the commander’s gasp still ringing in his ears.  “Shepard?” </p><p>The commander blinks.  Carefully, gently, Kaidan takes his hand and squeezes in reassurance.  He wants to say something, <em>needs </em>to, but his head is empty.  So much has happened over the last few years; what they have now is too new, too uncertain.  Could versus should battles within him.  Before he comes to a conclusion, Shepard draws in another ragged breath and his face contorts with pain.  His eyes close again and his hand goes limp.</p><p>“No!”  Around him, the doctor and Aguilera move, but Kaidan doesn’t see; his focus is locked onto Shepard and Shepard alone.  He leans over, brings his lips near Shepard’s ear, and his grasp tightens around Shepard’s.  The words that, just moments before would not form, now fall over one another, panic shaping their release.  “<em>Is breá liom tú</em><em>.</em>” </p><p>Shepard lies there, unnaturally still. </p><p>A sharp ache pierces Kaidan’s chest before spreading outward.  “<em>Is breá liom tú</em><em>.</em>”  They were supposed to be a surprise; something for when the war was over, when time was a luxury again, when he had half a chance of pronouncing them properly, not a desperate prayer as he lies dying.  Words from Shepard’s past to connect them in a future, one hopefully spent together.</p><p>Pain slices through him again, and they tumble from his lips once more.  “<em>Is breá liom tú</em><em>.</em>”  Again.  And again.  With each repetition, the words flow better, stronger, yet to Kaidan they seem more like senseless babble.</p><p>The doctor and Aguilera move around him; he stands where he is, unworried, unrepentant.  He focuses only on Shepard.  The <em>Normandy </em>shudders around them; Kaidan doesn’t notice.  On and on, he drones, not hearing the plea in his tone, the desperation.  Aguilera leaves and the doctor starts strapping a safety harness around him and Shepard, then herself; Kaidan doesn’t notice.  The ship lurches and Kaidan’s forehead bumps Shepard’s.  Shepard doesn’t react; Kaidan doesn’t stop speaking …</p><p>… until the <em>Normandy </em>comes to a jolting halt … and the hand in his tightens just a fraction … and the left side of Shepard’s lips curve upward just a bit …</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sharing A Drink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>From a minific writing prompt on tumblr  (I'm  theoriginalladya over there if you'd like to follow).</p><p>Prompt:  Sharing a drink</p><p>The request was asked to incorporate this with some headcanons I had posted yesterday at their request.  I actually incorporated TWO headcanon ideas into this one ...</p><p>Another from my world of Caleb Shepard</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bar, a dive in one of the seedier Wards, is crowded when he arrives but it is open.  From the looks of things, it didn’t suffer too badly from the geth attack, or, if it did, it was cleaned up quickly.  Whatever the case, it appears as popular as ever with a line that extends out the door and down the street.  He walks up to the door and the bars on his shoulders speak for him, guaranteeing no wait time, and he enters. </p><p>The place is packed.  Humans and turians, asari and salarians, plus a few he is not as familiar with; but all who are here have one thing in common.  They all wear the uniform.  Soldiers and sailors, the lot of them.    </p><p>A table hidden away in a far back corner is his destination.  It is mostly framed by shadow, but there is one figure sitting alone.  He takes a seat and finds two glasses next to a larger bottle made from some kind of dark, opaque glass.  <em>Ah, the good stuff.</em>  Shrewd eyes lift to meet the dark pair sitting across from him and he nods his greeting and appreciation for the choice.  Words are not spoken, but none are needed and his companion pours two fingers worth in each glass.  Quietly, he takes one, lifts it.  A quick inspection reveals the deep rich tones of the amber liquid even in this light.  <em>Definitely the good stuff.</em> </p><p>Blue eyes meet brown.  “<em>Sláinte</em>.”  Their voices wrap around the foreign word together before they each take a sip. </p><p>Anderson is the first to respond, eyeing his glass and giving it an appreciative nod.  “That’s … smooth.”</p><p>Hackett nods in satisfaction as he evaluates his own.  “A good choice.”</p><p>Anderson chuckles.  “You’re not going to believe this.” </p><p>Anderson turns the bottle so Hackett can read the label more closely.  One brow arches as the date and the distillery become clear.  “I sense a story somewhere.”</p><p>“Indeed.”  With a sigh, the Councilor takes another sip, savors it, then swallows.  “Shepard gave it to me,” he explains.  “As a ‘thank you,’ or so he said at the time.”</p><p>Snorting softly, Hackett takes another sip.  “Must’ve been one hell of a favor.”</p><p>A smirk curves at Anderson’s lips.  “For recommending him to ICT,” he clarifies, “but that came later.  He hated me from the moment I showed him the acceptance letter.  It was right after Akuze, you see.” </p><p>Hackett winces.  <em>One hell of a story.</em></p><p>“Anyway, after he made N7, he brought that to me.  Told me to save it, that we’d share it after his first ‘big mission,’ or some such nonsense.”  Anderson sighs and shakes his head.  “Opportunity never arose.  Years later, when boarded the <em>Normandy</em>, he asked if I still had it.  Once he made Spectre, he promised we’d share a glass once Saren was caught.  That defeating <em>him </em>was a mission worthy of the bottle.”  His voice fades and he stares down into his glass.  “And now …?”</p><p>Hackett’s lifts his glass and tilts it toward Anderson who follows suit.  “You had a better connection to his past than I did,” he reminds his friend after another drink.</p><p>“Yeah.”  Another sigh.  “Maybe.  Do you remember Connor O’Bannon?”</p><p>Hackett shakes his head.  “Should I?”</p><p>“Back in our early days, but after Shanxi.  Quiet, soft spoken, one hell of a corporal.”</p><p>Hackett reconsiders, the hint of a memory teasing him a minute or so later.  “I think I remember.”</p><p>Anderson’s smile shifts from grim to warm.  “He is <em>Athair </em>Connor now,” he explains.  “Took to the cloth after leaving the service.  Decided he wasn’t cut out for war and would rather save souls instead.”  He downs the rest of his drink.  “But that didn’t stop him from sending Shepard my way.”</p><p>“I’m glad he did.”  Hackett follows suit.  The moment he sets the glass upon the table, Anderson is filling both again.  “Have you told him?”</p><p>Sorrow fills Anderson’s dark eyes once more and he shakes his head.  “I’ll do that in person,” he murmurs.  “When I can get away from here.”  He runs a hand over his face.  “What did you think of him?”</p><p>Hackett frowns.  “Of who?  O’Bannon?”</p><p>“No; Shepard.”</p><p>Hackett runs his fingertips lightly around the squarish top edge of the glass.  He’d only met Shepard twice in person, each time with Anderson present.  How would he describe the younger man?  Quiet.  Unassuming.  Independent.  But there had always been something in his eyes.  A fire of some kind, a spark.  <em>A burning ember, always banked, ready to flare up when necessary.  </em>“One hell of a soldier,” he finally replies. </p><p>They lift their glasses and the soft clink as they touch echoes around them.  “He was that, I agree,” Anderson says.  “To Shepard.”</p><p>The bottle isn’t large, and it takes less than an hour for them to work their way through it with somber reflection on a man who died far too young.  They part ways outside of the bar, and Hackett is halfway back to the docks when his left wrist vibrates.  He pulls up his omni-tool, prepared to refuse Anderson’s second request to have dinner with him and Udina later.  He is surprised to find the message is not from the Councilor.</p><p>
  <em>To: Admiral Steven Hackett, Systems Alliance</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From: Dr. Liara T’Soni</em>
</p><p>
  <em>RE: Our mutual acquaintance</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Admiral,</em>
</p><p><em>    You do not know me, but I assisted Commander Shepard during the hunt for Saren.  My name is Liara T’Soni.  I am Benezia’s daughter.  I was with the commander when the </em>Normandy <em>went down.  Though I do not have proof of it yet, the situation may not be nearly so dire as it seems …</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Poking At A Bruise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing Prompt:  Poking at a bruise</p><p>Caleb Shepard and Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ouch!”</p><p>Kaidan simply stands there, one brow arched higher than the other as he judges Shepard.  “Stop being such a baby,” he murmurs.  He can’t stop a smile from curving upward.</p><p>Caleb tilts his head to one side, relishing the snap and pop as tension is relieved, and then he leans the other way.  “I’m bruised all over and you think poking me is a good idea?”</p><p>Snorting softly, Kaidan’s smile takes full form.  “And whose fault is that?” he counters.  “<em>I</em> wasn’t the one who decided to headbutt a krogan in the middle of the Silversun Strip.”</p><p>Eyes rolling, Caleb walks around Kaidan in the direction of the kitchen.  At least Anderson’s apartment had a decent sized freezer in it, complete with icemaker.  He snags a towel from the counter nearby, tosses two hands worth of ice cubes into the fabric, twists it, then plonks it onto his left shoulder.  The cold hits quickly; the numbness will take time.  Only then does he turn back to Kaidan who has followed him into the room.  Who stands there, smugly snickering.  Caleb’s eyes narrow.  “What now?”</p><p>Moving closer, Kaidan inspects the area of Caleb’s shoulder.  Indeed, there is a dark bruise  well established; purples, blacks and blues, even a hint of green and yellow mingle together on his skin.  “Headbutting, huh?” he echoes, glancing over with a twinkle in his eyes.  “I think you missed.”</p><p>A sound of disgust slips past Caleb’s lips and heads into the other room where he drops unceremoniously onto the sofa.  “Krogan are big,” he argues.  “He moved at the last second.”  He isn’t about to admit the truth of it, not after <em>that </em>crack.</p><p>Kaidan follows again.  He pauses briefly at the bar, but soon sits next to Shepard.  He sets one of two bottles of beer onto the coffee table in front of him, lid removed before sitting back and taking a long pull from his own. </p><p>Caleb ignores the peace gesture and turns on the vidscreen.  He spends several minutes flipping through options before he decides on a rebroadcast of the latest Armax Arena challenges.  Its purpose is to provide distraction, of course, and he figures he’s been successful until Kaidan pokes him again.  In the same bruise.  “<em>Na dean sin</em>!” he hisses without thinking.  “Dammit, why do you keep doing that?”</p><p>“I thought your cybernetic implants helped you heal faster than us mere mortals?”  Kaidan lifts his omni-tool and presses a button to run a scan.  A moment later, Caleb sees concern shift to something more serious behind whiskey colored eyes. </p><p>Knowing what is likely to come next, he reaches over to grab Kaidan’s arm.  “They do,” he insists, “but it still takes time.”</p><p>“It’s been two days.”</p><p>“Exactly.” </p><p>Too late, Caleb realizes his words do little to ease Kaidan’s mind as he pales considerably, no doubt as the realization of just how serious the original injury had to have been crosses his mind.  Releasing his hold, Caleb jumps backward, his hand from his good arm warding him off.  “<em>Stad!</em>”</p><p>But Kaidan’s medical training won’t let him and he lunges toward him, omni-tool at the ready.  “But, Shepard – !”</p><p>Grunting as pain hits him in other areas in addition to the shoulder, Caleb throws himself sideways off the sofa into a barrel roll to break free and comes to a stop on one knee, eyes focused and intense.  The shift to battle mode is instinct, nothing more.  “Don’t waste your medi-gel on me when I’ll heal just fine in another day or two!” </p><p>It takes a long, drawn out minute before Caleb realizes he has effectively silenced Kaidan.  That is cause for concern.  The major’s  lips move, but no words come out, and the concern has become something else … pain? </p><p>Caleb frowns.  The world around him has done a complete one-eighty in less time than it takes to blink, and he can’t quite figure out how or why.  Kaidan rises to his feet and just stands beside the sofa.  The uncertainty in his movement breaks Caleb’s heart; and still he doesn’t understand why it’s there.  It isn’t too difficult to figure out he’s said or done something wrong … it’s the what he isn’t sure of.  Slowly he rises to his feet.  He’s both relieved and disappointed when the tension in the room lessens … and Kaidan doesn’t approach him.  Quite unexpectedly, it’s as if they are back to that awkward stage of their relationship when they are friends, but not certain if there’s more to it or not.  “Kaidan –.”</p><p>Kaidan shakes his head, refuses to look him in the eyes.  When he does speak, his voice is rough, practically hoarse.  “When are you going to realize you aren’t in this alone?” he asks.  There is an almost plaintive quality to his tone.  Another slice of pain cuts through Caleb.</p><p>But there’s something else, too.  It’s been a long time since they had this discussion, long enough that Ashley’s face comes quickly to the forefront of his memories when he thinks back.  Sitting in the mess on the SR1.  Post-mission debrief with her and Kaidan after Feros.  Caleb heaves a long, heartfelt sigh and runs a hand through his hair.  This time, there’s more at stake than an argument over his taking life by the horns versus relying on others for assistance.  Far more.  A galaxy.  A friendship.  <em>More</em> than just a friendship.  Caleb crosses the room and winces when he sees Kaidan step to the side to keep space between them.  It hurts far worse than the bruise ever did.  “Kaidan, wait, please.”  When he doesn’t stop, Caleb’s voice drops an octave lower than usual and his Irish lilt is a bit more pronounced.  “<em>Mo ghrá</em> –.”</p><p>Kaidan hesitates and cautiously lifts his head, his eyes meeting Caleb’s.  “You’ve said that before.” </p><p>It’s barely a whisper, but Caleb hears it.  His breath catches, but he doesn’t look away.  Fact is, he <em>has </em>said it, has <em>thought</em> it, more times than Kaidan probably realizes.  “Said what before?”  He wants, <em>needs</em>, to be sure they are talking about the same thing.</p><p>“<em>Mo ghrá.</em>”</p><p>The words come out rough, but close enough it’s impossible to misunderstand, and Caleb certainly doesn’t deny the claim.  “It’s Irish,” he says, wondering if he might be about to make the worst mistake of is life.  It’s been a very long time since he willingly shared such strong feelings about someone to that same someone, and the last time hadn’t gone well at all.  He can hear a faint echo of a laugh in the back of his mind …</p><p>Kaidan’s lips thin and a soft, disgruntled sound slips past.  “I figured that much out, Shepard.”</p><p><em>You’ve never let anything hold you back before,</em> Caleb reminds himself, <em>even after</em>.  <em>It’s too late to start now.  </em>His swallow is convulsive, but it forces him to move forward.  “It means ‘my love.’” </p><p>Seconds tick by in aching, painful slowness as he waits for Kaidan’s reaction.</p><p>And then it speeds up like a rush of adrenaline.  Something in Kaidan’s eyes flicker, and it takes a few seconds for Caleb to realize it isn’t a particular emotional reaction as much as it is a wall falling down, and behind it …   </p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p><em>Na dean sin! = </em>Don’t do that!</p><p><em>Stad! </em>= Stop</p><p><em>Mo ghrá </em>– My love</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Listening to them vent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing prompt: Listening to them while they vent.</p><p>Caleb Shepard and Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kaidan has known Shepard for many years now, and doesn’t surprise him when the stress and strain of leading them through the war starts to show.  Since his return to the <em>Normandy</em> he has been warned, particularly by Garrus, that the cracks are there just waiting to break open, so he’s been watching and waiting.  And when it comes, it’s a doozy.</p><p>This isn’t the first time Kaidan has witnessed Shepard’s temper.  He’s witnessed it on numerous occasions, from dressing down the Council after Noveria, to being on the receiving end of it on Horizon.  From one end of the galaxy to the other, if you cross Shepard, you put yourself at risk.  There are ways back, of course, but few and far between, and these days they are rare indeed.</p><p>Kaidan is standing near the galaxy map in the CIC speaking to Traynor regarding a request from Admiral Hackett when Shepard stalks through from the direction of the war room.  He has his back to him at first, but Traynor stops speaking mid-sentence, and her eyes widen which alerts him to a problem.  Even if he hadn’t, it’s the string of Irish invectives that fill the air that tips him off to the source.  Shepard’s abuse of the button to lift is nothing by comparison, though Kaidan still makes note to check it over later in case it requires repairs. </p><p>Traynor, eyes still wide as she stares at an obviously agitated Shepard, still cannot speak, and Kaidan cannot help but feel a bit of sympathy for her.  Twice he’s been in the direct line of fire – once back on the SR1 and the other on Horizon – and it isn’t a comfortable position to be in.  He offers her a reassuring smile and murmurs, “It’s okay.” </p><p>Traynor manages to pull her gaze to him briefly, though the unease is still present along with doubt.  Smile still in place, he adds, “I’ve got this,” and nods at her console.  “Cover for me?” </p><p>Her only response is a hesitant nod, but it’s enough and he turns and ducks onto the lift just before the doors close and it starts to move.</p><p>He says nothing as the lift rises slowly through the body of the ship, but he does keep his eyes on Shepard.  The curses continue seemingly non-stop and with increasing vehemence.  Years before, he might have flinched or at the very least asked what was wrong; these days, however, he doesn’t need to.  If Shepard has any inkling, he’s never questioned him about it, probably just writes it off to Kaidan understanding his body language or something.  But there is more to it, something Shepard isn’t aware of; Kaidan knows, more or less, what Shepard is saying and can gauge far better than he ever could when to let him run out of steam or when to step in. </p><p>During the two years Shepard was considered dead, and for reasons Kaidan still has yet to satisfactorily explain to himself, he took the time to learn the very basics of the Irish language.  The moments Shepard used it were rare enough back then, but it was something familiar, something that struck a chord inside Kaidan enough that in learning it, it helped ease the ache left behind by the commander’s absence.  Shepard spoke it sparingly, usually at times when he was most emotional. </p><p>Words of encouragement before he and Jenkins landed on Eden Prime with him in that very first mission; <em>Nár lagaí Dia do lámh!</em>  May God not weaken your hand!</p><p>A quiet mournful moment as he made a final check on Jenkins after the corporal took a shot from a geth drone, and later for Ashley as the <em>Normandy </em>raced into the atmosphere above Virmire; <em>Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam.</em>  May s/he rest in peace.</p><p>Curses thrown at the Council just before hanging up on them after they questioned his release of the rachni queen; <em>Go hifreann leat!  </em>To hell with you! </p><p>And, of course, anytime he and the crew had drinks together be it at a club on the Citadel or even at mealtimes in the mess; <em>Sl</em><em>á</em><em>inte!  </em>Good health!</p><p>These days, Kaidan has different reasons for continuing the lessons, though he keeps it private from Shepard. </p><p>The lift comes to a stop just outside of the commander’s quarters, and Kaidan’s hears it all.  Thankfully, none of the curses seem to be aimed at him, so that’s a plus.  He also takes it as permission to follow Shepard into the cabin as he steps out of the lift.  By the time Kaidan enters, Shepard is on the lower level pacing back and forth, still muttering.  Kaidan leans against the wall next to the fish tank where he can keep and eye and ear on things and remain out of the direct line of fire.  Another fifteen minutes pass before Shepard winds down.</p><p>“<em>Droch áird chúgat lá gaoithe!</em>”</p><p>Silence falls and stays.  When it lasts for more than fifteen seconds, Kaidan says, “That one sounded rather tame by comparison to the rest.”</p><p>Shepard spins around on his heel, his blue eyes still flaring with spit and fire.  Kaidan remains where he is, but replies by simply arching one brow.  It’s a bit of a challenge on his part and one, if he isn’t careful, that could backfire, but he’s willing to risk it if it means Shepard will finally relax.</p><p>Their eyes meet, hold, and Kaidan gains some satisfaction for his action when Caleb is the first to turn away.  He walks over to the desk nearby and fishes out an unfamiliar bottle and two glasses from one of the deep drawers.  He then walks over to Kaidan, hands him one as he holds the other, and pours two drinks.  With practiced ease, he lifts his glass, murmurs, “<em>Sl</em><em>á</em><em>inte</em>,” and downs the two fingers-worth in one gulp.  “You understood that?” he asks after a minute.</p><p>Kaidan chuckles softly and sips at the whiskey – it barely hits his tongue when he realizes it’s the <em>good </em>stuff that Caleb somehow tracked down the last time they were on the Citadel.  He doesn’t know how, especially during a time of war, but he isn’t going to argue it, either.  “I’ve heard you say all sorts of things over the years,” he replies, hoping it’s enough of an answer while not really giving him one. </p><p>Shepard pours himself a second and downs it before running a hand through his hair.  When he’s finished, the dark waves are mussed in such a way that much of it falls forward into his eyes.  Kaidan can’t help but wonder if he realizes how young it makes him look.  Shepard’s back is to him when the commander laughs and shakes his head.  “It’s probably better you don’t understand.”</p><p>Sensing an opportunity, Kaidan descends to the lower level.  “You think?”</p><p>The bottle is returned to the desk and Shepard leans his hips against the desk afterward as he faces Kaidan.  His lips are slightly curved into the smug smirk that usually denotes he’s in a better mood when he replies, “We Irish are an emotional sort.”</p><p>Dryly and with supreme effort to keep a straight face, Kaidan deadpans, “You don’t say.”    </p><p>Their eyes meet and hold.  Kaidan feels the lightest of flutters in his chest, sees a slight flaring in Shepard’s blue eyes in the same moment.  Downing the rest of his drink, Kaidan walks over and sets his glass next to Shepard’s.  Without looking at him, he asks, “Feel better?”</p><p>Shepard moves slightly, folding his arms across his chest; fingers bump in the process, linger slightly, and the flutter returns to Kaidan’s chest.  “Aye, thanks.”</p><p>Inhaling deeply, slowly, Kaidan dons a neutral mask as he finally looks over at Caleb.  “Good.  Glad I could help.”  He decides retreat is probably the better part of valor in the moment and starts toward the steps.</p><p>He’s nearly at the door when the acoustics of the room filter Shepard’s soft voice just loud enough for him to hear.  “<em>Go raibh míle maith agat, a chro</em><em>í</em><em>.</em>”</p><p>
  <em>Many thanks, my heart.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. If I work it out right, they won’t see me or the gun.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing prompt:  If I work it out right, they won’t see me or the gun.</p>
<p>from the Peter Gabriel — Shaking The Tree: Sixteen Golden Greats Sentence Starters</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, Major Coats</p>
<p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>❛❛ If I work it out right, they won’t see me or the gun. ❜❜</p>
<p>Stunned, Kaidan stares at Shepard’s back as they continue walking.  A quick glance to his right assures him Coats is startled as well, or at the very least bewildered by the comment.  In either case, to Kaidan’s way of thinking, it doesn’t bode well.  “Would you mind repeating that?”</p>
<p>Without comment, Shepard ducks into an alleyway.  Kaidan follows, expecting an answer to his question, but as he and Coats fall into the shadows beside Shepard, he realizes his mistake.    For the first time since the end of the war, as his eyes meet Shepard’s, he is witness to the hard edge of the N7 infiltrator, the man who survived Akuze and took down a rogue Spectre, the man who led the charge to save the galaxy from both the Collectors and the Reapers.  Recent weeks have been filled with pain and physical limitations, with concern and doubts; it is clear in this moment that Commander Caleb Shepard has returned.</p>
<p>The alley is empty save for shadows; Shepard leads them deeper in.  They come to a stop near a stack of old crates where Shepard turns to them.  Coats affects his usual off-handed brand of casual and leans his shoulder against the wall, arms folded across his chest.  “Remind me why the hell I’m here?” he demands.</p>
<p>Caleb’s lips curve into a smirk as he chuckles.  “You’re bait,” he replies without hesitation.  “Who else can draw them out but one of their own?”</p>
<p>Kaidan waits in silence, half-expecting Coats to protest his assignment; the full grin that takes over the man’s lips and suffuses his entire face with growing anticipation is sign the man takes no issue with it.  In fact, if Kaidan reads his body language right, the sniper seems to be looking forward to it with relish. </p>
<p>That’s all fine and good, but Kaidan won’t be dismissed like some private in basic.  He adopts a similar stance and eyes Shepard closely.  “I’m waiting.”</p>
<p>Caleb’s lips twitch; it’s quickly apparent he’s suppressing laughter, but Kaidan isn’t sure at whose expense.  When Shepard realizes this he sighs.  “Relax, <em>Mo shíorghra</em>,” he murmurs in reassurance.  “Infiltrator, remember?”</p>
<p>“Kinda hard to forget.”  His reply is dry, deadpan, but behind it is deep concern.  He drops his gaze to the casual clothing he, Shepard and Coats now wear in lieu of Alliance uniforms so Caleb cannot see it.  This mission isn’t ‘on the clock,’ so to speak, and he doesn’t like the idea of going in without armor and a full loadout, but there is no other choice. </p>
<p>“I think his point is he’s not going to let himself be seen,” Coats supplies half-teasingly, the cocky grin still tilted in place. </p>
<p>Kaidan gives him a withering look.  “I figured that part out, too.”  Which doesn’t mean he likes it.  While it’s the practical tactical set up, Shepard is still recovering from wounds received in the last battle in London.  Caleb left the cane behind at <em>Old Neddy’s</em>, but the limp is still obvious in his steps.  And while the casual clothes might fool people at first, the N7 emblazoned on Shepard jacket is a quick reminder of his affiliation to anyone who might recognize it.  Of course the pistol at his hip and the sniper rifle in his hands are a dead giveaway, too. </p>
<p>Shepard catches Kaidan’s gaze and holds it gently for a moment.  “Let’s go,” he says with a nod deeper into the alley.  “I’d like to be in place before they get here.”</p>
<p>Coats moves into the lead, clearly having been briefed on where to go for the rendezvous.  Kaidan moves up beside Shepard as they follow a few steps back.  “So, why am I even here?”</p>
<p>“You once told me,” he replies quietly, “you’d always have my six.  That not the case anymore?”</p>
<p>Kaidan doesn’t bother to respond; they both know the answer.  Instead, he asks, “And Coats?”  The man in question is no longer in sight, having exited the far side of the alley.</p>
<p>Shepard chuckles softly, stopping when they near a ladder leading to a rooftop.  “As I said, bait.”  Caleb is tall enough to grasp the lowest rung and pull it down, and he starts climbing.  Kaidan follows.  “Don’t worry, he’s used to it.”</p>
<p>It seems strange to Kaidan that a sniper, one meant to hide in the shadows to take out his target, could be used to being bait, but he doesn’t question it.  There are still many things he doesn’t yet know about their relationship, and he suspects context is key to that one.</p>
<p>They reach the top and move to the front of the building where they can see the rendezvous point over the ledge.  This far out, they’re on the edge of the city, but even with that said, there are still far too many ways this situation can go wrong, and it leaves him uneasy.  If Coats needs immediate help, they may not be able to provide it in time.</p>
<p>A hand settles on his shoulder, and Shepard murmurs near his ear, “Relax, <em>Mo Ghrá</em>, it will be fine.”  A spark of affection flares in his blue eyes as he uses the endearment and he reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.  It helps Kaidan settle.  “Like I said before, if I worked it out right, they won’t see me or the gun…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Calming them down when they have a bad dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  Calming them down when they have a bad dream.</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His eyes shoot open, his body is on full alert even before his brain struggles to catch up and yet he has no idea what woke him.  The light from the fish tank casts a light blue haze throughout the cabin, otherwise it is dark.  The room is silent save for the hum of the VI that keeps the tank running and the soft whir of the air recycling system on the <em>Normandy</em>.   The wild thump of his pulse reminds him that <em>some</em>thing pulled him from deep sleep, though whatever the cause is still a mystery ...</p><p>… until a soft grunt of distress echoes near his ear and an arm tightens around him.  Instinct kicks in faster than his brain, and he rolls over until they are face to face, if somewhat awkwardly.  His eyes are shut, hidden away from view, but witness to god-only-knows-what behind darkened lids, but it’s clear he sees <em>some</em>thing as the eyes beneath move far too rapidly to suggest otherwise.  Another grunt escapes his lips, this time accompanied by a sharp move of his hip as if jerking away from something … or someone.</p><p>Reacting quickly, Shepard cradles Kaidan’s cheek in his hand.  “<em>Mo Ghrá,</em>” he murmurs soothingly.  “Kaidan, wake up … it’s a dream.  It’s only a dream.”  Kaidan’s body is taking on the familiar blue sheen of biotic energy when a shocked gasp fills the air and his fly open.  When he draws back, Caleb does not protest.  How many times has he woken from a nightmare, uncertain when it ceases to hold power?  “<em>Bail ó Dhia ort,</em>” Caleb whispers in hopes it will chase the nightmare away and ease Kaidan’s mind.</p><p>Kaidan blinks a few times, but Caleb sees the minute recognition sets in.  A shudder, as uncontrollable as it is violent, shakes him and he turns away.  Caleb gives him space and time, rising from the bed to retrieve a familiar bottle from his desk.  When he returns to the bed, he sets the drinks aside before asking, “Better now?”</p><p>Another shudder assaults Kaidan, but he nods though he won’t look up.  Caleb sits and hands over one of the drinks.  His eye is on Kaidan’s hands, but the liquid inside does not shake nearly so much.  He murmurs the familiar toast, as ingrained in him as breathing, and takes a sip.  Kaidan says nothing and downs the two fingers all at once.  A grimace twitches across Caleb’s face and he sets the drink aside before moving his pillow behind his back.  “Want to talk about it?”  He has an idea, but will wait for confirmation.</p><p>“Not … not really.”</p><p>Caleb pries the empty glass from Kaidan’s fingers and sets it aside before patting the bed next to him.  “How about just sitting together for a while then?” he offers instead.  There is a moment of suspicion, he can see it pass behind Kaidan’s whiskey colored gaze, and Caleb wants to laugh.  However, he understands the power of nightmares and this is hardly the time.  He pats the bed a second time and, with some reluctance, Kaidan sits beside him. </p><p>The room is still dark save for the light from the fish tank, but that’s okay because he has the eyes of the <em>sealgaire</em>.  Slowly, gently, he finds Kaidan’s hand with his and laces their fingers together.  He waits long minutes for him to get comfortable again, to relax; only then, Caleb knows, do the last tendrils of the dream start to fade.  It is then he starts humming softly.  He feels Kaidan tense as his fingers tighten around his, but they soon relax once more.  The song is old and familiar, one from Caleb’s childhood.  It’s one he reaches for in dark times, when the dreams attack him, and imagines Nan singing it to him once more.  After several rounds of humming, and Kaidan relaxed enough to rest his head on Caleb’s shoulder, Shepard starts to sing softly. </p><p>
  <em>Over in Killarney,many years ago<br/>
My mother sang a song to me<br/>
in tones so sweet and low<br/>
Just a simple little ditty<br/>
in her good old Irish way<br/>
And I'd give the world if she could sing<br/>
that song to me this day …</em>
</p><p>Kaidan pulls back just enough to glance up at him.  “Is that …?  What is that?”</p><p>Chuckling softly, Caleb shrugs.  “It’s a lullaby.”</p><p>“A lullaby?”  His eyes narrow slightly.  “I’m hardly a child, you know.”</p><p>The chuckle evolves into a full belly laugh.  “No, you aren’t that,” he agrees.  Reaching over, he pulls Kaidan back, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.  “It’s what Nan used to sing to me when I had bad dreams.  I always found it soothing.”  He glances over, grins and adds, “It could be worse.”</p><p>A look of skepticism fills Kaidan’s eyes now.  “Yeah?”</p><p>With a nod, Caleb replies, “I could have chosen ‘My Bonnie,’ or one of our more … erm, patriotic songs.”</p><p>Kaidan’s eyes roll as he drops his head to Shepard’s shoulder once more.  “Sing it again,” he says after a moment. </p><p>“Really?”  It isn’t that he’s startled by the request, but he is curious.</p><p>“If it works for you, maybe it’ll work for me.”</p><p>
  <em>Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,<br/>
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry!<br/>
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,<br/>
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby…</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Wearing clothes in their favorite color</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt: Wearing their favorite color</p><p>Caleb Shepard (implied) and  Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It starts as an accident, really.  He doesn’t even notice at first.  When your entire adult life is lived in navy blue twenty-four seven, opportunity to wear other colors can go one of two ways; outright fear or a desperate attempt to showcase individuality.  Normally, he opts for the second.  Like the blue, white and green jersey he wears on leave in support of his favorite hockey team back on Earth.  Or the cream and crimson sweater his mother knit him for Christmas one year.  It never occurs to him there’s a third option; mourning.</p><p>In the weeks following Alchera, after multiple debriefs, watching his former crewmates reassigned elsewhere, he is given leave to recuperate before he reports to his next duty station.  He has nothing but time on his hands, and that, he discovers to his chagrin, is a problem.  The idea of leave alone reminds him of the years between BAaT and enlisting; not a place he wants to revisit, especially now.</p><p>A friend from basic offers him a place to stay on Arcturus, and he accepts.  Heading home might work, but there will be questions, most of which he doesn’t want to answer now.  Arcturus, on the other hand, is different.  He has mixed memories of time spent here, but it is connected with Earth and home, as well as the Citadel, his next assignment, so why not? </p><p>Still, too much time in idle hands can be a dangerous thing. </p><p>It begins the night of his arrival.  After dropping his things at the flat, he’s spent the rest of the day wandering the station, reacquainting himself.  He’s passed through here on several occasions, but this is the first time he’s had more than a day and he wants to get a better lay of the land.  But, where to start?  The obvious choices are where he’s been before: Arcturus Memorial Hospital or <em>Murph’s</em>.  He opts for the former, but ends the day at the latter. </p><p>He sits alone in a booth in back.  It’s quiet here and gives him a good line of sight on those already present as well as a view of the door.  As if he’s expecting someone to walk in … </p><p>
  <em>Not this time.  </em>
</p><p>He orders a glass of Tullamore – the same as last time – and nurses it the rest of the night.  His server eyes him suspiciously, but notices the rank insignia at his collar and says nothing.  He stays until last call then heads home.  He returns two nights later; same seat, same drink, same server.  She’s less suspicious this time thanks to the generous tip from his last visit, though she still says nothing.  Two nights later, a third visit.  Then a fourth.</p><p>The fifth time he’s seated she walks over with a genuine smile of recognition.  She doesn’t ask what he wants, simply sets a glass of Tullamore in front of him.  But, for just a moment, she slides into the seat across from him, folds her hands together and rests her chin atop them, looking straight at him.  “Each time you visit,” she observes quietly in a voice with the same lilt he’s come to know so well, “you remind me a little more of home.”</p><p>He isn’t quite sure what to make of that, and simply arches one thick brow in response.</p><p>She nods at his shirt; he glances down.  Old and faded, what used to be bright orange now hints at its former glory, more resembling an orange creamsicle he used to eat as a kid.  His old school logo is long ago faded, but the quality of the material is surprisingly good, so he’s kept it in his rotation.  These days, it barely fits anymore, but the dark green jacket he’s grown fond of hides that fact well enough.  Brow still arched, he asks, “What do you mean?”</p><p>Her smile widens.  “<em>Éire, </em>my friend.”  She sighs softly, but her smile remains in place except in her eyes.  “I had hoped you might be a little slice of home come to visit.”</p><p>His eyes close on a sharp wave of pain as her words filter through.  “I – .”  He pauses, clears his throat, then tries again.  “I’m not, no,” he finally forces out, “but I just lost a good friend who was …”</p><p>One of her hands darts out to pat his gently even as she rises back to her feet.  “I’m sure they’d be happy to know you are thinking of them fondly then.  <em>Sláinte!</em>”</p><p>She leaves, for which he is thankful, because the toast is nearly his undoing.  A small tremor that begins in his hand rolls up and around his shoulder.  He has to set his glass down or risk spilling the contents. </p><p><em>Thinking of you fondly? </em> He stares at his hands in front of him for one long minute before bracing them flat against the table.  <em>How is this supposed to work, Shepard?  You were the best commander I’ve ever served with.  A Spectre beyond reproach.  You saved us, the galaxy from a threat that the Council and Alliance both want to sweep under the rug.  Someone has to remember you, don’t they?  Keep up the fight?</em> </p><p>His eyes fall to his shirt and jacket once more.  An accident, but one that makes sense now that it’s been pointed out to him as memories of Commander Caleb Shepard return, resplendent in his specialized N7 armor of dark green with bright orange stripe down his arm. </p><p>He takes the glass and downs the liquid in one gulp tonight; he fights his way past the burn to his belly and feels a fire stoked deep inside.  <em>You may be gone, but neither you nor the fight will be forgotten.</em> </p><p>He pushes himself to his feet and finds her again on his way out, slipping her twice his usual tip.  At her startled gasp, he finds his first true smile since Alchera.  “I’ll see you next time,” he tells her as he turns to leave. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A lazy drive, heavy eyelids, a window rolled down, and murmured conversations from the backseat.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing Prompt:  A lazy drive, heavy eyelids, a window rolled down, and murmured conversations from the backseat.</p><p>Caleb Shepard and Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The journey home is always long no matter his point of origin, but for Kaidan, that is never more true than now.  The war against the reapers is over, the only visible evidence are the occasional inert, immobile outer husk draped across the landscape; now more objects of curiosity by those who survived than any existing threat.  In Vancouver, attempts at reconstruction are underway and progress is being made, if slowly.  The city itself will take years, decades even, to recover fully, but he has no doubt it will recover.  That, at least, is a start.</p><p>Their shuttle docks late, but they are greeted by none other than Admiral Hackett himself.  A short debrief regarding their adventures over in Shannon, nothing more, and they are free to leave.  The admiral offers his own personal shuttle and pilot for the last leg of their trip, but Kaidan politely declines.  This will be a first for him and for Shepard, and he has something else in mind.  A skycar is rounded up instead, and after transferring their things into the vehicle they are soon on their way.</p><p>Kaidan knows the route like the back of his hand, even after all these years.  Every hill and valley, every winding road.  Though later than expected, he doesn’t worry, except perhaps for his mother who will be waiting anxiously for their arrival; nothing short of them standing right in front of her will reassure her that all is well.  He sends a brief message anyway just before putting the vehicle into gear and driving beyond the city limits.</p><p>An hour out, Kaidan makes an unexpected realization; he is content.  The windows are open wide to let in the warm summer breeze as the vehicle eats up the miles.  Despite his best attempts to stay awake, Shepard’s eyes are drooping with exhaustion and his head rests against an upright arm braced along door.  Kaidan finds the lazy smile at his lips such a contrast to the man who saved the galaxy from extinction.  He also likes to think Shepard has finally discovered that some battles are won by giving in, though he realizes it’s far more likely Shepard's pain meds for his hip are the likely culprit.  In the long run, it doesn't really matter.</p><p>There is no sound to accompany him but the air flow over the skycar and the hum of its engine, but Kaidan doesn’t mind.  As he turns deeper into the BC interior, he takes the moment to glance up at the night sky, to look at the stars, to reflect on how much his life has changed since he last made this journey.  His thoughts are sobering, yet liberating as well.  The last time he was headed the opposite direction on a shuttle into Vancouver to enlist and spent the trip wondering just what the future might hold.  He knows far more now about what lies out beyond Earth, beyond Sol, and yet, that same rush of excitement at the thought of looking around the next corner fills him.  After what he's been through, that is a bit of a surprise if not a miracle.</p><p>The Alenko family orchard looms straight ahead of him now, and there will be change there as well.  Knowing his mother is safe and sound is a relief and one less thing to worry about.  The fate of his father is a different story.  What will the orchard be like without his presence?  Kaidan thinks back to that last night spent together before the war, sharing a beer while looking out over the Vancouver skyline.  A joke, a laugh, a discussion regarding his presence at the Defense Committee hearing the next day.  So much of that night has faded with time and distance; Kaidan is disappointed in himself for that, but time takes its toll. </p><p>A quick sideglance over at Shepard is reassuring and results in a soft smile playing across his lips.  He can't - <em>won't </em>- trade it for anything, even if it guarantees his father returning home safely.  He is also quite aware that his father wouldn’t want him to.  His only regret is that Shepard never had the chance to meet him …</p><p>A soft whisper of sound from the back seats has Kaidan’s eyes darting to the rearview mirror.  There is a vague hint of movement, eventually a pair of bright eyes opening.  Kaidan waits for them to connect with his in the glass then smiles.  A hesitant smile returns.  “How much longer?”</p><p>Kaidan’s eyes flick from the mirror to the road ahead.  In the distance, he can see the faintest suggestion of light.  The orchard is on the far side of town.  “Not much longer,” he promises quietly. </p><p>The smile strengthens before the child leans over to wake his sister.  Niamh yawns, eyes fluttering as Tadgh whispers in her ear.  It amazes Kaidan to some degree that the lilt in their voices are still so obvious even though they speak softly.  The more alert Niamh becomes, the more rapidly the words fly back and forth.  Her eyes rise to meet his as her brother's had and there is a certain wariness in them, but Kaidan also sees a spark of excitement. </p><p>He skirts the outer edge of town and veers west.  It’s a challenge to see the mountains in the dark, but he knows they’re there.  A gentle breeze rustles through acres of trees, and it is a familiar sound.  Comforting.  A sudden longing he doesn’t quite expect tightens in his chest then releases.  Gently, he slows the car and turns down the drive leading to the main house.</p><p>Warmth surrounds one of his hands followed by a soft lilting mumble asking, “We home?”</p><p><em>Home.  </em>A broad smile curves at Kaidan’s lips, steadily growing until he eases the vehicle to a stop.  He glances over his shoulder at Tadgh and Niamh and winks, savors the bright smiles that meet him in return, then leans over to place a quick kiss on Shepard’s cheek before whispering, “Yes, we’re home …”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>50 Wordless Ways to Say I Love You prompt:  Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.</p><p>Caleb Shepard and Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Relax” isn’t a word in Caleb Shepard’s vocabulary.  His whole life has been about fighting for survival; fight to breathe, fight for the <em>Reds, </em>fight his way up through the ranks, fight to stay <em>alive.</em> </p><p>Anderson’s order comes as a surprise, to say the least, though it shouldn’t.  Outside of the <em>Reds</em>, and perhaps <em>Athair</em> Conor, Anderson is the only person who really knows Shepard.  Understands him.  <em>Gets</em> him.  It still amazes Caleb to this day that the man was able to figure him out so well on the short flight from Shannon to London.  An hour, tops, in which he determines just what makes Shepard tick.  Ever since, he’s used that information to his advantage with Caleb.  So, really, the admiral gifting him the apartment and then ordering him to relax should be expected.</p><p>Only, it isn’t, and it leaves Caleb floundering.</p><p>It’s been a very long time since he’s cared about not disappointing someone other than himself.  Anderson doesn’t look a thing like Ned, but they are similar in more ways than most could imagine, and because of that, he decides to put effort into complying.  The problematic part of it all is, ever since his enlistment, his focus has been on getting the job done; he has no idea how to simply “relax.”</p><p>Discovery comes in layers.  After checking his email – thank god Brooks hasn’t messed with that – he decides to try the Armax Arena.  Fighting is his comfort zone, and headshot competitions with Garrus and Zaeed are always fun.  They remind him of his days in sniper school and the never ending competition between himself and Hammersmith to prove who was best.  The battles go well and the trio eventually end up at one of the local drinking establishments afterward, one that even has a dartboard, but the brawls that follow just aren’t the same and Caleb can’t help but feel something is … lacking.</p><p>His next attempt lands him in the Castle Arcade.  Watching Traynor from the sidelines is one thing – it’s good to see the specialist come out of her shell a bit – but there are only so many times he can play the claw game before his frustration level soars and eats away at his soul.  He isn’t a conspiracy theorist, not by a longshot, but even he has to agree with Zaeed that the game is rigged.  It just doesn’t make sense otherwise.  Running into Jacob is also interesting, and the kids he’s brought with him certainly seem to enjoy the friendly competition between the two soldiers.  Still, like everything else here, the attempt at finding ‘relaxation’ leaves Caleb wanting.</p><p>Javik’s vague request for assistance and advice is something completely different and Caleb’s suspicious nature is on full alert.  Sure enough,  the chaos that follows, while amusing in hindsight, results in a headache that could rival one of Kaidan’s migraines, truth be told.  The round at the Armax Arena that he and Javik partake in afterward is a far better outlet, if only because “This One” doesn’t insist on joining them.</p><p>They head back out the next day, and it doesn’t take long for Caleb to realize he isn’t even close.  He may be able to focus on the mission, but he isn’t impervious to the side-glances and looks of concern from his squadmates.  Even Dr. Chakwas suggests doing ‘something relaxing’ the next time they’re at the Citadel.  Caleb almost tells her he’s trying, but ends up just agreeing and walking away.  Truth of the matter is, he’s at a loss, and he knows it.</p><p>The <em>Normandy</em> heads back to the Citadel a few weeks later to drop off some schematics Caleb hopes will assist with the war effort.  Kaidan messages him to suggest they spend a night in and do absolutely nothing but watch vids or listen to music.  He agrees without hesitation, silently hoping the major is more knowledgeable on how to approach the situation.  They agree to meet at the apartment after running respective errands. </p><p>They end up eating in; Kaidan turns out to be a damn good cook, though Caleb isn’t ready to admit that any time soon, not after Kaidan teases him.  It’s all in good fun, of course, and he takes no offense, but he figures another night in like this spent making Nan’s honey mustard corned beef and colcannon for dinner is worth pretending to hold a bit of a grudge. </p><p>There isn’t much available to watch; only news vids and replays of the Armax Arena battles, but Kaidan is agreeable to the latter and so they end up on the couch watching a match involving Aria T’Loak and her team taking on Cerberus.  Caleb suspects the gleam he sees in her eyes is just a hint of what he can expect when he helps her retake Omega, and quickly decides those thoughts will definitely not help him relax.</p><p>“So.”</p><p>Caleb tosses the remote aside and sits back.  As he sips at his beer – what he’d give for a Guinness right now! – he glances over at Kaidan.  “So?”</p><p>The major’s lips curve into a smug smirk.  “You know, I was beginning to think you might actually let go tonight.”</p><p>Caleb blinks in startled surprise.  “I thought I was?”</p><p>The smirk widens slightly.  “You are coiled tighter than a cobra about to attack.”  Kaidan nods at the bottle Caleb holds where the white around his knuckles is obvious.  “Is it Aria or the Arena?”</p><p>Caleb laughs and sets the traitorous bottle on the coffee table.  “Both,” he admits.  He hasn’t told any of his crew yet about the upcoming mission, and tonight is <em>not </em>the night to do that.  Sitting back, he rolls his head and neck.  The resultant pops and cracks support Kaidan’s assessment.  “Any suggestions?”</p><p>“Yeah, actually.” </p><p>Caleb is only a little startled when Kaidan slides his hand across his shoulders.  Their relationship is still young: out in the open and declared between them, but still in the ‘what the hell do we do now?’ stage, but the more time they spend together, the more comfortable things become.  Kaidan now works his fingers along the muscles, gently kneading the tension away; this is something new, but not unwelcome, and it’s all Caleb can do not to melt into a giant puddle of goo as a result.  His entire body seems to just … dissolve.  It’s a completely unexpected feeling, so much so that he can’t stop from groaning softly. </p><p>Kaidan chuckles softly near his ear and murmurs, “Like that?”</p><p>“Aye, you could say that,” Caleb manages.  The motions stop and for a moment, he wonders if he said the wrong thing … until the simple massaging motions start again, this time as Kaidan’s fingers move slowly upward and through his hair.  The end result is yet another groan, and he struggles to rasp, “How do you <em>do </em>that?”</p><p>Another soft chuckle.  “Magic.”</p><p>Caleb starts to turn his head, curious, but before he can catch Kaidan’s eyes, he feels the change – the tingle of dark energy that builds and buzzes along his scalp and neck, sending an unexpected shockwave of pure sensation through his body.  Caleb yelps softly and lurches to the side, pulling free of the contact and holding himself separate from Kaidan as shivers flutter across his skin until they fade away. </p><p>Silence fills the room.  Caleb doesn’t realize it’s awkward until he hears hesitancy as Kaidan asks, “Too much?” </p><p>Slowly, Caleb turns to face him.  Something has changed between them, something he cannot define.  He’s well aware that his eyes are the most expressive of his features; how many times in past did Ciara or Moira attempt to explain just how compelling or intimidating he can be with a single look?  To this point in his life he’s always used it to his advantage. </p><p>He isn’t about to change that now.  Hiding nothing, he meets Kaidan’s gaze and watches the hesitancy bleed into understanding.  In that moment, Caleb lunges toward him, closing the space between them.  Kaidan clearly doesn’t expect the move as he ends up falling backward on the couch; Caleb catches himself and braces his arms so he doesn’t hurt him.  “Never,” he insists, their lips just inches apart.  “You?”</p><p>Kaidan inhales sharply and his lips twitch just slightly in anticipation and invitation …</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. This can’t be happening again. No. Please. You are all out of control.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  “This can’t be happening again. No. Please. You are all out of control.”</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p><p>post-War/ME3</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>daidí = daddy</p><p>A stór =  'my treasure' - a term of endearment parents use with their children</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caleb exits the storage barn and heads up to the main house, a smile on his face and a sigh of satisfaction with a day well-lived.  It’s a bit of a surprise, it always is these days, but he can’t help it.  After so many years focused on just surviving from one day to the next, simply <em>living </em>hasn’t come easily or cheap, yet he will never argue that it hasn’t been well worth the wait.  A day doesn’t go by that he isn’t reminded of the past – physical aches and pain have a funny way of doing that – but it’s like breathing; something he can live with.  Especially with what he now has to live <em>for.</em></p><p>He shucks his jacket off as he enters the house through the back door, barely inside before the mad scramble begins.  By the time the jacket hangs on its usual peg and he takes a seat and lifts a foot, Tadhg and Niamh apparate from seemingly thin air and start the daily battle over who will win the race to unlace a boot first.  They squabble a bit over microseconds while Caleb slides his feet into more comfortable shoes.</p><p>Standing isn’t quite so much of a challenge as it was in the months immediately after the war, but still requires him to brace his arms against the wall as he pushes himself to his feet.  Tadhg, now ten, slides under his arm without being asked to offer support.  They share a quick look and a warm smile, ending with Caleb tousling his son’s dark hair.  By rights, he should use his cane, but it’s hidden away again until Kaidan can find his newest hidey-hole or the winter chill stalks him down, whichever comes first.  Caleb hopes it’s the latter this time and not the former like last year.  So far, his luck has held, but he swears Tadhg and Kaidan have some sort of arrangement between them.  It’s difficult to deny the affection in the offer, though, and Caleb may, upon occasion, lean on Tadhg’s shoulder just a bit longer than necessary.</p><p>Seven year old Niamh, not to be left out, climbs onto the bench and wraps her slender arms around <em>daidí</em>’s neck from behind.  This, too, is routine, and Caleb slides his free arm behind him to support her small frame before hefting her upwards into a better position.  Only then do they enter the house.  Together.</p><p>The kitchen is warm and welcoming and the mouth-watering aroma of the Irish stew he started that morning leaves Caleb drooling.  At least until a towel is unexpectedly tossed at his chest, landing with an unceremonious thud before dropping to the floor because Caleb’s hands are currently occupied.  Niamh squeals with laughter and even Tadhg giggles softly though he tries to hide it.  But then Kaidan saunters across the room, turning it into a group hug and everything starts all over again.  Somewhere in the process, Caleb manages to lean over to steal a kiss, but it comes at the cost of one of Niamh’s elbows, or maybe it’s her knee, in his kidney.  He can’t hide a grimace or keep from doubling over, at which point she scrambles down to the floor and both children scamper out of the room, content that both parents are home where they should be. </p><p>Straightening, Caleb’s arm shoots out, hooks around Kaidan’s waist and he pulls him in closer for a proper welcome home.  “Wasn’t expecting you until the end of the week,” he murmurs afterward, his previous pain giving way to a sigh of satisfaction.</p><p>Kaidan laughs.  “Not all Spectres get distracted with side missions,” he replies.  “Some of us are more … efficient.”</p><p>Caleb snorts softly and follows him across the room.  He accepts the drink he’s handed and leans his hips against the counter while Kaidan checks on dinner’s progress.  “How long this time?”</p><p>“Couple weeks.”</p><p>One brow rises when Kaidan grins in his direction, but it doesn’t take him more than a few seconds before he guesses, “Requested time off, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Sort of.  Figured I’d take a few days for the memorial.”</p><p>Caleb’s mood grows somber.  It’s been two years since the end of the war, and this year Admiral Hackett wants them both to be a part of the service.  Last time around, he was still recovering from another surgery on his hip.  This year, he doesn’t have that excuse.  It isn’t that he doesn’t want to go – he owes that much to people like Ashley and Anderson who gave their lives to defeat the Reapers – but the idea of facing the ghosts of those lost never sits well with him.</p><p>He changes the topic with a nod at the stovetop.  “Hungry?”</p><p>A slow, lazy grin spreads across Kaidan’s mouth and he opens the cupboard.  “Took you long enough to ask.  Gather up the troops; I’ll dish it up.”</p><p>Caleb ducks his head into the hall and calls for Tadhg and Niamh to return and just manages to move out of the doorway as they come barreling in … along with the army of toys that accompany them.  Dinner is always an adventure in their house, and neither Caleb nor Kaidan would have it any other way.  Taking their seats at the table, they settle down to good food and even better company. </p><p>Somewhere around the end of his second bowl of stew, when Kaidan has finally brought him up to date with his latest spectre mission, Caleb glances over at Niamh.  She sits with a slice of buttered bread in one hand, and in the other one of her dolls.  His lips twitch as recognition sets in; it’s the krogan plush doll Grunt sent for her birthday.  She mumbles something he can’t quite make out because of the food in her mouth.  That raises a concern or two, so he reaches over to pluck the bread from her hand and set it back on her bowl.  Her eyes dart to his, a sharp look of accusation that only the young can pull off, before she grabs another doll that looks suspiciously like …</p><p>Caleb dart a look over at Kaidan who is deep in conversation with Tadhg.  With a tilt of his head, he asks, “Where’d she get that?”</p><p>Kaidan spares a moment to glance over at Niamh.  A moment after, he shrugs.  “Liara thought she might like it.”</p><p>Strangely, that knowledge doesn’t help.  “Why does she need a doll when she has me?”</p><p>The question apparently requires Kaidan’s full attention because he turns completely toward him.  Meanwhile, Niamh grabs a third doll, this one a turian.  Confused and wondering what on Earth his daughter is up to inside her creative little head, he jumps when Kaidan’s hand wraps around his and squeezes.  “Feeling a little neglected, Shepard?” he asks, the smug smile coming back in full force.</p><p>Caleb’s eyes darken and he’s about to reply when one word Niamh says reaches his ears clearly.  <em>Spicy.</em>  It’s more than enough to yank Caleb backward in time which lasts but a fraction of a second.  When his focus returns to the present, Caleb takes a deep breath and surveys the scene in front of her once more. </p><p><em>A krogan, a turian and a human walk onto the Silversun Strip …</em> </p><p>“<em>A stór</em>,” he murmurs softly while reaching over to lightly tap her nose, “what are you playing?”</p><p>Eyes wide and innocent, she looks up at him.  “Spicy noodles, <em>daidí</em><em>,</em>” she replies in a soft lilting voice. </p><p>Behind him, Kaidan nearly chokes on a laugh.  Somehow, Caleb manages to keep a smile in place to reassure her everything is fine, but as he sits back in his seat, his eyes close.  “This can’t be happening again,” he mutters beneath his breath. “No. Please.”  There are only a select number of people who know about events that day, and all of them are well acquainted with his daughter.  “You are all out of control…”</p><p>A chair scuffs against the floor, and within seconds, Kaidan is behind him, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head.  Caleb glances upward as Kaidan teases in a voice just loud enough for him to hear, “How much did Grunt’s little escapade set you back?  You’d better start saving up now.”</p><p>Caleb groans…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Who are you?  Where am I?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>from Natwhumps prompts over on Tumblr:  (pick one prompt part from each category)  Dialogue:  Who are you?  Where am I?,  Trauma:  Utter Silence,  Scenario:  B received a phone call that A is in the hospital.  Pairing:  fshenko</p>
<p>Female Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, fshenko, EDI, Commander Bailey</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kaidan bolts up in bed gasping, his heart beating so strong and fast it’s a wonder it doesn’t pound right out of his chest.  It’s dark and it takes a long minute to remember where he is; the <em>Normandy</em>.  His eyes flutter twice as he peers through the darkness, searching.  Not just the <em>Normandy</em>, but his quarters aboard the ship; quarters the commander insisted he have upon his return to the ship.  Slowly, he takes a deep, steadying breath, and with it the memories.</p>
<p>Innumerable days spent at <em>Huerta Memorial Hospital, </em>and the uncertainty of whether he will be capable of returning to the war.</p>
<p>His shoulders tremble a bit as he takes another breath; slowly releases it.</p>
<p>His pride and honor in becoming the second human Spectre, and the pageantry and pomp Udina insisted upon to celebrate.</p>
<p>And another.</p>
<p>Cerberus’, and by association Udina’s, failure in taking over the Citadel; coming face to face with Shepard’s weapon and the conviction in her eyes.</p>
<p>And another.</p>
<p>Shepard agreeing to take him back on board the <em>Normandy</em>; after their experience on Mars, a pleasant and welcome surprise. </p>
<p>Visibility is slightly better now and he glances over at the chronometer to note the time.  He’s been asleep for only a few hours.  The <em>Normandy </em>is still docked on the Citadel, taking on supplies before heading back out to battle against the Reapers.  By rights, he should be fast asleep…</p>
<p>“Major Alenko?”</p>
<p>His eyes lift as the voice echoes around him, though there is nothing to look at except for the ceiling.  “EDI?”</p>
<p>“Major, I monitored a communication between <em>Huerta Memorial Hospital </em>and C-Sec regarding a victim brought in for treatment,” the AI continues.  “The description matches that of Commander Shepard.”</p>
<p>Ice freezes Kaidan’s veins as the words sink in.  <em>Shepard?  In the hospital?  As a patient?</em>  He lunges off the bed and is half dressed when something about what EDI’s words penetrates the panic.  “Wait – a communication between the hospital and C-Sec?  Why?”</p>
<p>“It appears the victim,” EDI replies, “has no memory of what happened.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sends a message to Garrus as he exits the ship.  The turian, currently calibrating the guns while awaiting a response from the Primarch regarding troop deployments, agrees to contact Commander Bailey directly.  Before Kaidan can arrange a skycab, Garrus sends a message back; <em>Bailey will meet you in the lobby at the hospital</em>.</p>
<p>Sure enough, Bailey flags him down the moment he exits the elevator, and the pair step off to a quiet corner, or as quiet as they can find considering the overflow of patients thanks to the coup attempt.  “I’ve got my best people working on it,” Bailey says as he presses a button on his omni-tool.  “So far, this is all we’ve found.” </p>
<p>What follows is a brief video clip taken some place in the Wards.  Security camera footage, most likely.  Though grainy, the image is clearly of Shepard as she stands in front of a closed store front.  The clip lasts no more than twenty seconds, from beginning to end, and there is no sound, but one thing is clear; at approximately the thirteen second mark, <em>something </em>changes.  One moment, Shepard is fine, smiling and nodding as someone walks by and waves.  The next, the commander looks confused and shakes her head a few times as if trying to rid herself of something.  That apparently fails, and she lifts her hand to pound the sides of her head with her palms and directly over her ears.  Her lips part, her breathing becomes shallow, and she falls to her knees.  The last thing Kaidan sees clearly on her face before the vid stops is the look of absolute terror in her eyes before they roll back and she falls to the ground unmoving.</p>
<p>Kaidan looks over at Bailey.  “What happened?”</p>
<p>“We don’t know.  Someone found her lying there, brought her here,” Bailey explains.  “The doc who admitted her reached out to C-Sec thinking she was a victim of an assault.”</p>
<p>“Assault?”  Alliance soldier, N7 trained and the first human Spectre, attacked without seeing it coming?  It’s always possible, but highly unlikely.  Unless …  “A trap or something Cerberus left behind?” he suggests.</p>
<p>Bailey shrugs.  “Right now, we’re just trying to figure out what happened.  We were lucky to find that vid of her.  No one seems to know what she was doing there, though.  That and the doc said she was muttering quietly when she was brought in.”</p>
<p>Muttering … that was good, wasn’t it?  “What did she say?” </p>
<p>“Something about silence.”  He scrolls through the screen on his omni-tool, pausing when he finds what he’s looking for.  “<em>Too quiet … no sound … why is there no sound …</em>,” he reads.</p>
<p>It’s useless to panic at this point, not until he has the chance to talk to her, to see if she can tell him anything else that might help it make sense.  “I want to see her.” </p>
<p>Bailey nods.  “Figured you would.  I got you cleared to go in, but the docs don’t want more than one person in there at a time.”  He shares a concerned look with Kaidan.  “She’s pretty rattled, from what I understand.”</p>
<p>Kaidan finds a nurse who directs him to the appropriate room.  A second one briefs him before allowing him access.  She’s been given a sedative to keep her calm, but she’s awake.</p>
<p>He enters the room to find it dark but for a small light near the bedside.  He finds her lying in the bed, head facing away from him.  “Hey, Shepard,” he calls out softly, just loud enough for her to hear. </p>
<p>Her head rolls slowly in his direction, but when their eyes meet, there is  no doubt in his mind that something is very, very wrong.  Her eyes, emerald green with brilliant flecks of gold, are … empty.  There’s no sign of her previous fear, and that’s a good sign, but it’s more than that; there is no sign of <em>any</em> reaction in them whatsoever.  Not even recognition.  She shifts a little in the bed to get comfortable as she continues to stare at him. </p>
<p>Moving closer, he finds no evidence of bandages or injury, just the IV line through which she’s receiving her medication.  The lack of response from her after all they’ve been through together is a bit unnerving and he plasters a smile on his lips; her expression doesn’t change one bit. </p>
<p>“Hey,” he murmurs again, noting she’s said nothing either.  “You all right?”</p>
<p>She blinks twice, almost lazily, but he knows that’s likely more due to the sedative.  When she speaks, her voice is the familiar, gentle, husky timbre he’s come to love so much.  “Where am I?” she asks.</p>
<p>It’s Kaidan’s turn to blink.  Haven’t the doctors told her?  “<em>Huerta Memorial</em>,” he replies.  Unable to restrain himself any longer, he gently takes her hand in his, careful of the IV line.  “EDI alerted me you’d been brought here.”</p>
<p>Her gaze falls to stare at their hands, a slightly disgruntled look marring her brow as she frowns, before rising back to his face.  “Who are you?  And, who’s EDI?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. What is it with you and needing to climb tall things?  One would think you're part cat or something.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  What is with you needing to climb tall things? One would think you were part cat or something.</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What is it with you and needing to climb tall things?”</p><p>Using extreme caution, Caleb crouches low, finds his center of balance and slowly moves along the rooftop.  It isn’t as easy as it was a couple of years ago, but he manages without incident.  “Someone has to do it,” he responds, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard below.  The grumble that follows, practically a growl, lets him know Kaidan heard him, and that he’s not pleased.  Still, it doesn’t change anything, and he keeps moving forward.  He has a mission to complete.</p><p>“One would think you were part cat or something.”</p><p>Caleb does snort softly at that.  “Not cat,” he calls back, “hunter.  <em>Sealgaire</em>, remember?”</p><p>“Can you <em>please </em>just focus on getting that damned thing then get back down here safely?”</p><p>It takes him a few minutes to find it, but eventually the hint of neon green and orange comes into view, wedged up next to the chimney.  The slant of the roof is a bit precarious, but Caleb doesn’t mind it.  In fact, if anything he finds it refreshing.  Only a couple years removed from active duty, it’s kind of nice to have the adrenaline rush and thrill of ‘battle’ flow through him again.  The ‘enemy’ may not be Reapers or Cerberus this time, but he’s still out to help the innocents who can’t help themselves.  “Tadhg?”</p><p>The ten year old ducks out from beneath the edge of the roof into Caleb’s line of vision.  “Aye, <em>daidí?</em>”</p><p>With an expert flick of his wrist, Caleb tosses the plastic disc and watches it float easily through the air until his son catches it.  “Why don’t you and Niamh do Papa a favor and play away from the buildings this time?”</p><p>The child grins hugely up at him.  “Okay!”  He ducks back beneath Caleb’s line of sight for a moment before darting off toward the empty field to the east.  Niamh is a streak of blue following in his steps.</p><p>Caleb carefully retraces his steps and descends the ladder.  He hops off a few feet from the ground, the thrill of ‘action’ still coursing through him.  He isn’t surprised at all to find Kaidan standing there waiting, arms folded across his chest, a look of exasperation on his face.  Unable to stop from grinning, Caleb demands, “What?”</p><p>“Some things never change, do they?”</p><p>Caleb retrieves the ladder and hefts it over his shoulder.  As he walks past Kaidan, he leans over and kisses his cheek.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>Not surprisingly, Kaidan follows; the discussion isn’t finished, after all.  They enter the barn side by side.  “You do this on purpose, don’t you?”</p><p>Caleb nearly chokes trying to hide a laugh as he puts the ladder up.  “Do what?”</p><p>The eyes of the second human Spectre narrow in accusation.  “You know what.”</p><p>Caleb’s grin, still in place, doesn’t diminish.  In fact, if anything, it widens.  He slides his arm around Kaidan’s shoulders and leads him back outside in the direction of the house.  “Could be worse, you know.”</p><p>One of Kaidan’s eyebrows lifts in skepticism; his <em>I know I’m going to regret this but I’m going to ask anyway</em>, look.  “Yeah?  How do you figure that?”</p><p>Caleb sneaks a kiss onto his other cheek, murmuring, “Could have been a fish tank and I could have fallen all the way down …” </p><p>Kaidan stops walking and Caleb has a choice to make: let go of him or stop and wait.  Despite the risk of his husband’s ire, Caleb opts for the latter.  Their eyes meet and hold; Kaidan’s face a neutral mask that probably should worry Caleb more than it does.</p><p>“Yeah, I hear the sushi place is <em>still</em> trying to rebuild …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. cuddling with someone and feeling a little too warm but not wanting to let them go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sensory Writing Prompt:  cuddling with someone and feeling a little too warm but not wanting to let them go</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Once they both acknowledge there’s <em>some</em>thing between them, it becomes habit for Kaidan to meet Shepard’s cabin after a mission.  Not immediately, of course, as there’s always the after mission stuff to take care of; checking the armor for wear and tear, the weapons, then getting cleaned up.  But by the time Shepard heads off to the War Room to follow up with Hackett for his debrief, Kaidan is on his way up with his latest Spectre paperwork.  The meetings with Hackett take time, and occasionally there are others to speak to, so Kaidan is almost always the first to arrive, and this gives him time to finish his reports,  send them back to the Council and then focus on more mundane things, like fixing Shepard’s armor. </p><p>Today is no different than usual, and by the time Shepard enters – a familiar Irish curse coloring the air around him as his fist connects with the wall just inside the cabin door – Kaidan is on his feet.  He steps around the corner, his gaze immediately drawn to Shepard who has his back to the wall and runs his hands over his face.  Exhaustion dogs his heels, evident in the dark circles beneath his eyes, and this latest mission doesn’t help.  Kaidan doesn’t want to nag – he isn’t <em>that </em>kind of boyfriend – but the stress Shepard has been under since the Reaper attack, since <em>before</em>, is adding up and it’s obvious to anyone who looks at him.  “Something I can help with?” he offers.  It’s doubtful – Caleb Shepard is stubborn when it comes to duty – but there’s always a chance.</p><p>The reply is immediate, typical.  “No.  Thanks.” </p><p>Typical, maybe, but Kaidan notices how Shepard’s face eases just as bit as he walks by, a hint of a smile at his lips.  That’s something, at least.  Caleb drops onto the couch and Kaidan follows, but stands for the moment.  “Hackett didn’t give you a hard time about Noveria, did he?”</p><p>Caleb blinks, head lifting partway as he meets Kaidan’s gaze.  “What – No, of course not!  What makes you think that?”</p><p>“<em>Go n-ithe an tochas thú!</em>”  He repeats the words back to Shepard and watches as just a hint of pink darkens the commander’s cheeks.  “That bad, huh?  Last time I heard you say that was after Feros, I think?”</p><p>The sound Shepard makes is part groan and part strangled laugh.  “Possibly,” he admits, though the hint of pink is still present.  He looks as if he might say something else, but then thinks better of it and shakes his head before reaching out to pat the seat next to him.  “Sit with me?”</p><p>Kaidan can’t hide a grin at the request even though he knows the change in topic is on purpose.  “You have to ask?” </p><p>Within seconds of sitting, Shepard leans toward him.  Though startled – this is new, but not unwelcome – Kaidan quickly adjusts by turning sideways to lay back against the arm of the couch which gives Shepard the opportunity to lie down.  It takes them both a moment to figure out the logistics of positioning arms and legs comfortably, but eventually they settle.  Once accomplished, Kaidan says, “You still haven’t told me –?”</p><p>Shepard sighs, head resting on Kaidan’s shoulder, arms tightening briefly around him before he relaxes again.  Kaidan is about to tell him to just forget it – it’s clear he doesn’t want to discuss whatever was so upsetting – but then he murmurs, “Salarian dalatrass.”</p><p>“Ah.”  That, Kaidan decides, explains everything.</p><p>“She and almost every other salarian within their government ranks can’t seem to understand that curing the genophage was necessary for their survival, let alone the right thing to do.” It’s impossible to miss the bitterness in his tone.</p><p>Without thinking much about it, Kaidan starts rubbing circles across Shepard’s shoulders.  The tension in him is unmistakable.  There is little else to say regarding the matter anyway, but Kaidan hopes it will help.  Several minutes pass before until finally he hears a soft snore, and Kaidan glances down to find Caleb asleep.  A part of him wants to laugh, but he holds it in so he doesn’t wake him.  Instead, he wonders how the first human Spectre will react later, and remains very still while savoring the moment.  Who knows how much time they have left – together or not, the Reapers make each hour a challenge to get through these days – but he is determined to spend what he can with Shepard; awake or not.</p><p>He loses track of time – not a big deal … until a bead of sweat trickles down his temple and slithers beneath his collar.  A second follows some minutes later.  It’s only then, as he’s roused slightly from his contented state, that the full nature of his discomfort sets in.  He’s overheating despite the climate control in the room.  Shepard, still sleeping, is dead weight against his chest and exudes enough body heat that if Kaidan didn’t already know the man wasn’t a biotic, he might reconsider that evaluation.  Now that he’s more awake, he’s definitely more aware of just how warm he is and his gaze drifts around the room, eventually upward where he spots the air vent just a few feet to his right.  Unfortunately, there’s no way to reposition himself to come under its direct airflow that doesn’t involve waking Shepard, or, more importantly, require losing their current state of contact. </p><p>Another droplet of sweat trickles slowly, this time at the back of his neck.  Shepard still sleeps, still the occasional soft snore.  Each passing minute presents more of a challenge to stay put; and yet, it’s a no brainer. </p><p>Slowly, carefully, Kaidan shifts his position into something more comfortable, if not cooler.  “EDI,” he calls out just loud enough to alert the AI, “dim the lights, please.”</p><p>The lights in the room fade, and Kaidan closes his eyes.  It might not be much in the grand scheme of things, but it’s conducive to sleep and if he’s very lucky, it might just lower the temperature in the room a degree or two.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Go n-ithe an tochas thú! - May you be eaten by the itch!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chasing someone's lips after they pull away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Physical Affection Prompts:  Chasing after someone's lips after they pull away.</p><p>mShenko :  Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The kiss comes out of nowhere, all heat and desire, and for the first time in his life, Caleb understands what it means to <em>melt.</em> </p><p>It begins innocently enough; he stands at the fridge, a hand filled with ice for his drink.  He hears Kaidan approach from the den, but pays it little heed just then.  Mistake number one.  From one heartbeat to the next, several things all happen seemingly all at once.  All of it wonderful; none of it expected. </p><p>Kaidan’s hand at his shoulder, firm pressure, a silent request for him to move.  He spins on his heel, half aided by the force behind that hand, just as the fridge door slams shut.  Before he can blink, he is pushed fully against it and Kaidan leans in.  Ice tumbles from suddenly numb fingers and crashes to the floor, forgotten in the moment.  There is a half second where Caleb is able to suck in a quick breath, his mouth opening to protest; no sound comes out, however, because Kaidan’s lips cover his, warm and moist, thorough and demanding, resolute and with purpose.  Unprepared for such an attack, Caleb has no defenses in place.  Instinct leads him to throw his hands up, fisting them around the fabric of Kaidan’s shirt in a desperate attempt to hold on for dear life.  At the same time, he moans softly into their connection, taking as well as giving back.   For just a moment, it’s as if time stands still …</p><p>Kaidan is the first to break contact.  When he pulls back, it’s impossible to miss the smug smirk at his lips, the satisfied twinkle in his eyes.  Caleb blinks twice and struggles to find breath as well as his voice.  “What…?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again.  “<em>Jesus, Mary and Joseph</em>!”  It all comes out in a rush, like one long word, but he can tell when Kaidan’s smirk widens into a full grin that he gets it.  “What … the hell was <em>that</em>?”</p><p>Kaidan chuckles softly and rests his forehead against Caleb’s.  “What’s the matter, commander?” he teases, voice dropping an octave or more lower than normal which sends visible shudders through Caleb.  “Never been properly kissed before?”</p><p>He’s caught and it’s clear Kaidan knows it.  Indignation boils, swells … until it’s swallowed by, of all things, embarrassment.  Caleb’s eyes close, his breathing still slightly labored.  He isn’t inexperienced, far from it, but kissing Kaidan is altogether different from any other he’s kissed to this point.  It’s a powerful sensation, thrilling in many ways, yet strangely frightening at the same time, and it leaves him cautious.</p><p>He opens his eyes again, finds Kaidan still there though back another half space to give him a bit of room.  His lips part and Caleb draws in air so he can reply, but he never gets the chance.  Kaidan chooses that moment to swoop back in.  Mistake number two: he should have seen that one coming.  Instead, the back of his head thunks against the appliance behind him and he groans; yet, it isn’t a sound of protest by any stretch of the imagination.  Far from it, in all honesty.  There’s a spark, a jolt that is unmistakable as it lances through his body clear down to his toes.  All he can do is hold on and hope he survives this ride.</p><p>Kaidan breaks this kiss too, retreating back a step as he does so, the smug look still in place …</p><p>Not leaving an opportunity for mistake number three, Caleb lurches forward.  Ostensibly, his lips chase after Kaidan’s; realistically, he utilizes the appliance behind him to launch them forward two steps until their positions are reversed and he has Kaidan pinned against the stove.  Their eyes meet and Caleb notices a hint of delight mixed with surprise in Kaidan’s face.  With the tables finally turned, a grin toys at the corners of his mouth as he leans in and murmurs, “I’ll show you <em>proper</em>, major …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Playfully biting someone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Physical Affection prompts:  Playfully biting someone</p>
<p>mShenko =  (John) Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>**This is a new mShenko pairing that I'm intending to do some writing for come Nano in November.  See below for more information.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a few things to note:</p>
<p>(John)Michael Shepard - Earthborn/Ruthless/Vanguard</p>
<p>(Thanks to mods) Romances Kadain in ME1.  Both stories play out more or less like we see them.  There is the potential for Ashley to have survived Virmire, too, though I’m not 100% on that yet.  </p>
<p>ME3 era, however, is far different from how the game plays.  Michael is my “What if I stayed on Earth and Anderson left on the Normandy?” Shepard.  His story (which I will hopefully be writing for Nano in November, or at least start it) will be set in the ME3/Reaper War world on Earth, but will have it’s own unique plot/story.  I will also be using some of the information the mods I’ve been playing with gives to help formulate that plot and see things purely from an Earth perspective.  (Vega and Kaidan both remain on Earth with Shepard.)</p>
<p>So, with that in mind, this is probably fairly early in the timeline of that story, but where exactly I’m not sure yet.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Commander Michael Shepard waits for Vega to settle into his watch before he leaves; not that he doesn’t trust the lieutenant or his abilities as a soldier, far from it, but experience is one hell of a teacher, and the reapers are graduate level studies.  After another fifteen minutes or so, satisfied there is no immediate threat, he heads inside.</p>
<p>The building is a wreck, not suitable for a long-term stay, but it’ll work for a night or two.  That, at least, gives them a chance to recharge.  Food is still scarce, but they’ll make do.  MREs may taste awful, but they fill a belly better than nothing.  Clean water, on the other hand, is more of a challenge, but that’ll fix itself once they’re back in the countryside.  Or so he hopes, anyway.</p>
<p>He passes quietly through the halls.  Despite the ruin and destruction, there is comfort of a sort to be found here.  At the very least, it drowns out the distant reverberations of reaper klaxons.  He’s woken more than once from dead, dreamless sleep, heart pounding in his chest due to those sounds.  The silence is a far better companion to his way of thinking.</p>
<p>The last door opens and he ducks inside to find Kaidan sitting at a desk surrounded by various technical components and pieces.  The light from his omni-tool gives everything an orangish-yellow glow, but it’s the best they can do without power. </p>
<p>“Any luck?” he asks.  He grabs a nearby chair, spins it around and straddles it so he can sit with his arms lying across the top edge.</p>
<p>Kaidan sighs.  His focus is on the components before him even as he raises one hand to rub at the back of his neck.  Michael’s gaze is drawn to the movement, like a moth to flame, and concern fills him.  The war started weeks ago – months maybe?  Keeping track of time is a challenge when on the run – and a day hasn’t gone by where they haven’t had to fight their way out or through multiple groups of reaper troops.  Overclocking their amps has become a habit in most encounters, even though they both know the toll it can take. </p>
<p>“I’ll be alright,” Kaidan replies absently.  His hand lowers and he tinkers some more.  “As for this … well, let’s hope it’ll be enough.”  He pushes it across the desk in Michael’s direction.  “Tell me what you think.”</p>
<p>Their stock of grenades is running low, and without a source to replenish them, they need to make each and everyone count.  Improvisation is becoming the new normal these days.  Adaptation.  Modification.  Adjustment … </p>
<p>Michael shakes his head to clear it of memories of friends whose fates are unknown; he distracts himself from such thoughts by noticing the lines of exhaustion creasing Kaidan’s face, particularly around his eyes.  Carefully, he pushes the device to the side and reaches a hand out to stroke his thumb gently along the corner of Kaidan’s left eye.  “Migraine?”</p>
<p>“No,” Kaidan replies immediately and with a shake of his head, “not that, thankfully.”  He reaches up and wraps his hand around Michael’s wrist, tugging it gently. </p>
<p>Michael relents and pulls back, but he’s surprised when Kaidan adjusts it so their hands wrap around the other’s.  Their eyes meet, and in Kaidan’s he sees something more than just exhaustion.  One brow lifts in curiosity and question, only to be answered by a soft huff from the major as he breaks the contact and drops his gaze.  Slowly, Michael flexes his fingers, inviting Kaidan to thread his between.  It’s been a very long three years with many ups and downs and harsh words since Alchera, but the fact that Kaidan was the first face he saw after the initial attack surely had to mean something more than just one soldier helping out another, right?  After all they’ve been through?</p>
<p>The seconds that tick by feel like ages, but Kaidan eventually curls his fingers around and through Michael’s.  When he lifts his head, Michael looks closely, and for the first time sees the slightest darkening in Kaidan’s face even in the dim light.  His lips curl up on one side and he tilts his head just a bit to the right as he tugs Kaidan’s hand close enough he can brush his lips against Kaidan’s fingertips.  “Does this mean what I think it means?” he asks quietly. </p>
<p>Kaidan sighs but nods once. </p>
<p>“What changed your mind?”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s lips twist into a wry smile as he shrugs.  “What hasn’t?  You were right.  Again.  As usual.”</p>
<p>A bark of laughter escapes Michael’s lips.  “If I’d known it was <em>that </em>easy to convince you …”  He lowers his lips again, presses another kiss to the fingers followed by a few playful nips.  Beneath his hold, he feels Kaidan shudder.  In all honesty, it shocks the hell out of him, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth or let the opportunity pass.  It takes every ounce of willpower he has not to jump to his feet, instead rising calmly and tugging Kaidan along in the direction of their bedrolls. </p>
<p>“Shepard …” </p>
<p>It’s meant as a protest, and Michael halts halfway across the room.  “Your choice,” he insists while at the same time loosening his hand but not releasing his hold. </p>
<p>After a minute or two, Kaidan’s fingers tighten to make up the difference.  He smiles but rolls his eyes.  “Don’t make me say it again.”</p>
<p>“Say what?”  The glare Kaidan gives him sends an unexpected thrill through Michael.  Winking, he kisses their joined hands once more.  “Almost had you there, major.”</p>
<p>“Not even close, commander …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Back Hugs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Physical Affection prompts:  Back Hugs</p><p>mShenko:  Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kaidan enters Shepard’s apartment later than he hopes, but still within a somewhat reasonable time frame, all things considered.  There is always a danger stopping by the Spectre office immediately upon arriving at the Citadel, but if extra time there means he gets his work done and out of the way so he can spend the rest of shore leave with Shepard, just the two of them, it’s worth it in his book.  Of course, there are times, like today, when he runs into unexpected delays that drag out forever, and before he knows it half the day is gone.  A quick message to Shepard early on is all it takes, but his disappointment at lost time is hard to let go, even now.</p><p>The minute he’s past the threshold, however, that changes.  His nose is pleasantly assailed by unfamiliar yet delightful aromas that leave his belly grumbly and aware dinner is waiting.  Not a surprise, really, considering the day he’s had, but what shocks him more is finding Shepard standing over the stove.  He’s threatened to cook several times over their recent visits, but timing, and supplies, have stopped him short.</p><p>Until tonight, apparently.</p><p>Kaidan saunters over next to him, murmuring, “Hey,” by way of greeting before sneaking in a kiss on Shepard’s cheek.  “Guess were still not going out to eat, are we?”</p><p>Shepard chuckles.  Seemingly without interruption, he turns and opens the fridge, pulls out two bottles and hands one over to Kaidan. </p><p>Kaidan is well aware of the drill by now, and has his open and raised to clink softly against Shepard’s a moment later.  “<em>Sl</em><em>á</em><em>inte</em>,” he says, wrapping his lips around the word.  This time, at least, he’s close, and he knows it by the twitch at the corner of Shepard’s lips.</p><p>Shepard replies, “<em>Sláinte agatsa,</em>” before taking a sip.  Only then does he turn his attention back to the burner in front of him. </p><p>Kaidan leans his hip casually against the counter as he surveys the scene.  There’s one large pot filled with what looks to be broth, vegetables and meat, and the scent drifting upward is heavenly.  A quick glance next to him and he finds the soda bread he’s started taking for granted whenever they’re on the Citadel.  Shepard once mentioned he knew how to cook, and Kaidan’s tried the soda bread before, but this is the first full blown meal Shepard has prepared for the two of them.  Seemingly simple, he suspects there is more at play here than it looks.  “I’m impressed,” he says as he lifts his bottle to his lips.  “Irish stew?”</p><p>“Of a sort,” Caleb replies, stirring the pot once and turning to face him.  “Run into problems?  That took longer than expected.”</p><p>Kaidan pulls another drink while rolling his eyes.  “Nothing I can’t handle,” he says.  “And besides, it’s done.  Shore leave has officially started –,” he glances over at the clock, “– or what’s left of it, at least.”</p><p>“We’ve got plenty of time.”  Caleb reaches for a bowl and starts filling it.  As he sets it on the counter where they’ll eat, he adds, “Wait until you see what’s for breakfast in the morning.”</p><p>Kaidan laughs; an unexpected huff of air escaping his lips, but one that assures him he’s finally found that state of relaxation he’s been looking forward to for the past few weeks.  Before rounding the island to sit, he steps closer to Shepard and peers over his shoulder, inhaling deeply.  “Mmm, smells good.”</p><p>Caleb ladles stew into the second bowl.  “I told you I could cook.”</p><p>“That you can, commander.”  Kaidan’s voice drops an octave as he replies and as close as he’s standing, it’s impossible to miss the slight shudder that ripples across Shepard’s shoulders in reaction.  Slowly, so as not to startle him, he wraps his arm around the commander’s waist and hugs him.  He isn’t surprised to feel that same tension bleed out as he relaxes and leans back just a bit.  Kaidan smiles and presses a gentle kiss at the base of Shepard’s neck before releasing his hold.  “And sometimes in the kitchen.”</p><p>The bowl – now halfway to the counter – wobbles slightly in Shepard’s hand before he manages to set it flat onto the surface.  By the time he turns, however, Kaidan is dropping into his seat, a wide grin spreading across his face.  It’s the moments like this that sustain him throughout this war, help him get from the bad times to the better; he’s fairly certain that is the case for Shepard, too. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. please, I'll do anything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angst writing prompt:  Please, I'll do anything</p>
<p>mshenko - Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>*** this one got DARK.  Suggestions/implications of violence, abuse, torture</p>
<p>As a reminder:  Michael Shepard is my 'what if Shepard stayed on Earth during the Reaper War' Shepard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s tired, <em>exhausted</em>; he has to be, it’s the only explanation why he’s standing here, heart in hands, begging.  It’s been weeks since the attack came, months since they started their journey, challenges at every turn.  Why would it be any different here?  Now?  <em>No rest for the wicked</em>, the saying went.  <em>Wicked …</em>  The image of Thane tickles his memory, of the prayers after each mission, of the discussions they had.  A name hovers in the hazy space between recall and memory … <em>Kalahira …</em>  In passing, he wonders if she is likely to favor one who isn’t drell ….</p>
<p>The room is a husk of its former self; piles of debris scattered unceremoniously throughout, barely a structural framework in place clung to by bits and pieces of what used to be walls.  The ceiling fares no better, and streaks of moonlight that peek through the clouded skies above provide little light inside.  But it’s the wide open space that assures Michael this room still sees use.  In the periphery of his sight, he doesn’t miss the handful of armed <em>Reds </em>keeping watch, waiting, <em>hoping</em>.  <em>The Pit</em> has a certain reputation; some things never change.</p>
<p>Across the room, seated on slabs of concrete that crudely shape a throne, he sits.  Anton; former second to Barrett back in Shepard’s days, now rules over them all.  His looks are deceptive, honed to a specific purpose.  Respect is hard earned, or used to be, but rumors of Anton’s takeover a decade ago and the methodical way in which he cleaned house is enough to do it.  The stories Shepard has heard are enough to leave even the likes of <em>him </em>shaking.</p>
<p>But there is no time for that now; he has his mission.  His eyes drift to the left of Anton, just a quick flicker, but it’s enough.  <em>Two guards, barely conscious, no armor or weapons.  </em>A tic at the corner of Michael’s right eye twitches as he inhales.  <em>It is time.</em></p>
<p>His voice is raw as he speaks, pouring his heart and soul into the words.  The effort is futile, he knows this, but he has to try.  Kaidan is depending on him.  “Let him go.  <em>Please, </em>I’ll do anything you ask!”</p>
<p>Silence returns as the sound of his voice fades, but he keeps his eyes straight ahead, focused.    Inside he’s shaking, almost violently; outwardly, his expression is cool, calculated.  A good match against Anton.  His voice betrays that, and the slight curve of Anton’s lips is all Shepard needs to know he’s heard it.  Michael pulls in another deep breath, unable to keep the shaking out of his shoulders this time.  He’s barely holding it together just now and seeing Kaidan, even for that brief moment, doesn’t help. </p>
<p>The soft scuffle of shuffling booted feet behind him is a reminder that Vega is with him, but neither have weapons.  He knows Vega isn’t above a good fight, weapons ready or no, but the odds are very much against them at the moment.  There is nothing they can do, no way they can get out of this situation until the balance tips to their favor.  It’s a test – of his leadership, of his skill, the outcome of which may inevitably decide not only their fate, but the fate of the galaxy.  His eyes close briefly, a silent prayer sent to whatever gods might listen, <em>Hang on just a little bit longer …</em></p>
<p>Across the room, Anton pushes to his feet and descends to the main floor.  Shepard’s eyes flick back open, focusing on his approach.  “Anything?”  The arrogance in his tone assures Shepard that the <em>Reds </em>leader believes he has the advantage.  He walks closer as his lips curl fully upward. </p>
<p>As he nears, Shepard is reminded just how tall the man is, perhaps even taller than himself if he stands at attention.  But for the moment, Shepard remains slightly slumped, his frame a mere shadow of his usual self.  His attention is drawn by Anton’s dark, calculating eyes as they survey him from head to toe and back again.  Shepard averts his gaze, relying on his peripheral vision to let him know where he is.  “Anything,” he croaks.</p>
<p>Anton signals across the room.  In the space of a couple of minutes, Kaidan’s battered and bruised form is brought down and left to crumple at Shepard’s feet.  A low moan is the only sound to escape the major’s lips, his eyes closed and face tight.  Deep inside, Shepard shoves the pain aside, compartmentalizes it.  It becomes fuel to trigger the spark deep inside.  He feels it catch, burn, and grow.  Deep and dangerous, it races upward, filling him, reaching every single limb and part of his body. </p>
<p>To his right, someone grabs his wrist and slaps a pistol in his hand.  His fingers close around it out of instinct and habit, just as a hint of a feral snarl starts to curl his lip.</p>
<p>“You’re a <em>Red</em>, aren’t you?” Anton challenges mildly.  “Once a <em>Red, </em>always a <em>Red. </em> This man is a threat to our very existence.  Kill him.”</p>
<p>A chill rolls across Shepard’s shoulders, down his spine, most likely visible to anyone watching him closely, and he knows they <em>all </em>are.  He <em>is </em>Commander Fucking Shepard, after all, and they have him in a corner.  They would be foolish not to expect him to fight back somehow, some way.  They are the <em>Reds</em>, they have a reputation to uphold.  He’s also pretty damned sure they know what happened to Finch three years ago.  A test of another sort.</p>
<p>Shepard drops his gaze to Kaidan who lies so very still, breathing labored, seemingly unconscious.  He’s bruised and beaten.  Dried blood stains track down his neck in the shape of a stripe from where his now swollen lip is cracked.  His hands are no longer bound, but his unconscious state makes that a non-issue.  His armor is gone and he’s dressed only in fatigues and a t-shirt.  Even his boots are missing, and his bare feet show signs of abuse as well.  For what seems an eternity but in reality, is only a few seconds, Shepard stares at the center of Kaidan’s chest, watching intently, holding his breath.  It seems like ages before he catches the movement, but once it does, he is … freed.</p>
<p>His head snaps upward, his cold eyes meeting Anton’s calculated, unmoving gaze.  For a long minute, the two simply stare at one another, neither flinching.  Behind him, Vega shuffles again, as if sensing the urgency in the moment.  The rest of the <em>Reds </em>back up, until only Shepard, Kaidan and Anton are left in the center of the arena. </p>
<p>Shepard’s lips curl into a snarl, predatory, feral.  His arm lifts, the gun secured by his fingers, as the first hints of dark energy start to crackle.  His eyes remain firmly on Anton as he points the weapon … at Kaidan.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Smiling into a kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing Prompt:  Smiling into a kiss</p>
<p>mShenko     Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mo shíorghra = 'my eternal love',  aka: soulmates</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The house is quiet as Caleb wanders from the kitchen to the den; too quiet for what he’s become used to since the end of the war.  And yet, that silence represents far more than the absence of sound.  Though it has taken time for Tadhg and Niamh to open up, to realize they have a home and family that will love and be there for them, they are not the only ones to discover the benefits.</p>
<p>Kaidan sits at the desk, finishing the last of his Spectre work for the evening as he enters.  Across the room, a fire burns low in the fireplace, seemingly forgotten and doing little to ward off the winter chill.  Caleb sets the two mugs he carries on the coffee table as he heads in that direction, then continues to the far side to stoke the flames back to life.</p>
<p>“I can get that, you know,” Kaidan calls over.</p>
<p>Caleb chuckles.  Carefully, he levels the embers before laying another log onto the pile and watches for it to catch.  “As can I, <em>mo shíorghra</em>,” he replies.  The scraping of the desk chair against the floor has him glance over his shoulder to see Kaidan heading in his direction.  “Or are you pulling rank on me, major?”</p>
<p>Their eyes meet and a sparkle of amusement twinkles in Kaidan’s, but it matches the grin that curves his lips.  “Did that ever work?” he counters, stopping by the coffee table.  “I don’t seem to recall …”</p>
<p>Satisfied with the blaze, Caleb joins him and takes a seat.  Kaidan passes over one of the drinks to him as he sits, at which point Caleb gently touches it to the other and murmurs the familiar toast.  Contentment, it seems, isn’t too difficult to find now that the Reapers are defeated and the galaxy isn’t pulling him in a thousand directions, particularly in the bottom of a cup of hot chocolate.  With a soft sigh, he settles back into the cushions.  “Any word from your mother?”</p>
<p>Kaidan chuckles and sets his drink back on the table before snuggling closer.  He snakes his arm around Caleb’s back as he replies, “The kids are fine.  They are making cookies tonight.”</p>
<p>A soft snort of amusement escapes Caleb which he hides behind another quick sip from his mug.  Only then does he toss a knowing look at Kaidan.  “Apparently, they aren’t banned from her kitchen?”</p>
<p>Kaidan gives him a mock scowl before reaching to set his mug aside with the other.  “What can I say?” he argues as he leans over to kiss Caleb, as much smile as it is kiss at this point.  “We’re both suckers for a good Irish brogue.”</p>
<p>Caleb slides an arm around Kaidan’s shoulders and tugs him closer so he can return the kiss with a bit more fervor.  He isn’t about to let an evening alone go to waste.  When he pulls back a moment after, he’s smiling as well.  “And that’s as it should be.  All is truly right in the world.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. I'm here you are safe now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing Prompt:  I'm here you are safe now</p>
<p> </p>
<p>mShenko:   Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko and Kids!  (Well, one kid!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>At the tender age of sixteen, she runs like the wind.  Niamh Shepard-Alenko, once she gets an idea into her head, focuses almost to the extreme to achieve it.  The goal is her challenge, the target her accomplishment. </p>
<p>In this particular instance, it has taken her a year but she has slowly, methodically worked her way to the top of the cross country team at school.  Diet changes.  Physical conditioning.  Psychological training.  Long talks with Papa and <em>Daidí </em>seeking any and all advice they have.  <em>All</em> of it. </p>
<p>As a result, her time isn’t just her personal fastest, but the second highest in school history.  Coach Riley is even talking nationals this year, and she’s only a sophomore.  Where running and distance are concerned, Niamh is fast becoming an expert.</p>
<p>The only thing she cannot outrun, however, is herself.</p>
<p>Long curls of gold-shot reddish sunlight stream out behind her, flailing wildly and tangling in the air around her.  Her breathing comes in rough, labored gasps more like a novice runner than someone at the top of her craft.  Ahead of her, she searches desperately for a finish line to this race, but all she sees instead is a door to a tiny room with a lock to hold her in and no way out. </p>
<p>“Niamh!”</p>
<p>Panic grasps hold of her heart, squeezing relentlessly.  “No!” she chokes, a burst of energy fueling her legs forward. </p>
<p><em>It’s just Papa,</em> a soft voice in her head reminds her.  <em>He of all people will understand.</em></p>
<p>But he won’t, she’s almost certain of that.  It’s a shame, really, but she continues on ahead, demons chasing her heels.</p>
<p>“Niamh!”</p>
<p>This shout, nearer than the other, catches her off guard, distracts her, makes her steps falter as she looks over her left shoulder.  Horror fills her from head to toe.  “<em>Daidí,</em>” she whispers, one hand rising to cover her mouth.  For just a moment, she forgets to run, forgets what happened, and stares as he runs in her direction.</p>
<p>Since the war, given medical advances and surgeries, and time and love from family, he’s managed to heal.  Her memories of those early days, back in Ireland are hazy, mostly to his doing; she knows this.  The love and care both he and Papa have shown her and Tadhg have gone a long way to help them heal.  And if there is one word she always uses to describe him, it’s <em>strength</em>.  She will never forget the night his arms found her, wrapped tightly around her and scooped her from the depths of the River Shannon, pulling her to safety.</p>
<p>But in this moment, despite everything he’s been through, all she sees is pain.  A sharp, piercing pain fills her chest, the guilt nearly bringing her to her knees.  She throws out her hands, pleading through her tears, “<em>D-Daidí</em>, stop!”</p>
<p>Their eyes meet and his pace slows, but it’s not until he’s within a few feet of her that she recognizes the truth; the pain in his eyes, the limp in his gait.  The man who is always at the finish line cheering her on loudest.  What harm has she brought to him with her behavior today?</p>
<p>He stops a few feet from her, respecting her space.  It’s not completely unexpected, but she appreciates it nonetheless.  “<em>A stór</em>,” he rasps, struggling to draw in breath, “what’s wrong?  Why did you run?”</p>
<p>A movement off to her left alerts her that Papa has caught up to them.  He stops further back to allow <em>Daidí </em>to do the talking.  Her eyes flicker to his for a moment, notice the concern there, but he holds back.  The ache doubles in her chest at the hint of uncertainty, something she rarely sees in him these days … until today. </p>
<p>“I – .”  She stops, pulls her lip between her teeth and worries it back and forth, her gaze shifting back and forth between the two of them.  “Did Tadhg tell you?”</p>
<p>“About school?”  Caleb nods.  “What of it?  So you lost your temper?”  His lips curve upward fondly, love shines from his eyes as he watches her.  “You’re a true daughter of <em>Éire</em>, <em>a stór</em>.  It happens to the best of us.”</p>
<p>Tears stream down her cheeks in a flood at his casual acceptance, but she shakes her head back and forth.  “No,” she insists.  Her eyes dart over to Papa again.  He is closer now, his eyes focused on her.  Concern now blends with sorrow in his warm brown eyes.  <em>He knows!</em>  Running her tongue across dry lips, she lifts her hand, holds it in front of her so that they both can see even as she stares.  She’s still not one hundred percent certain what caused it in the first place, but she knows the why.  She wiggles her fingers back and forth slightly, thinks back to class that afternoon and tries to recapture the moment when the first strange tickling flickers of dark energy came seemingly out of nowhere, surrounding her, enveloping her …</p>
<p>“Please,” she begs, eyes closed but she can feel it return in response to her summoning, “I – I didn’t mean to –.”</p>
<p><em>Daidí</em>’s arms are around her before her knees touch the ground.  The tears give way to huge, gasping sobs as she folds herself against him.  Papa approaches from her other side, his arms joining <em>Daidí</em>’s.</p>
<p>“Niamh,” Papa whispers, “hush.”  Gently, carefully, he combs his fingers through the tangled curls now hanging limp around her face before pushing them behind her shoulder, out of her face.  “It’s going to be okay.”</p>
<p>“But it’s not!” she sobs.</p>
<p>“Niamh, it’s alright,” <em>Daidí</em> murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.  “We’re here now and you are safe.  We promise.”</p>
<p>She pushes hard against their chests, breaking free of the embrace.  The dark energy slithers through her body now, enveloping her fully.  “How is this safe?” she wails.</p>
<p>Papa and <em>Daidí </em>share a look before each takes a sure step toward her.  Niamh is bewildered and a little frightened – not of them, but of herself, of what will happen because of <em>this</em>.  She knows what biotics are, she knows the limitations they bring with them.  As much as she loves her fathers, she does not want to be a soldier like they were; and yet that now appears to be her only future.</p>
<p><em>Daidí</em> gently takes her hand in his, squeezes it and tugs her close once more.  Exhausted, drained and more than a little frightened, she is just willing enough to follow his guidance without question.  “<em>A stór</em>,” he murmurs reassuringly, “your Papa has dealt with being a biotic for far longer than you have been alive.  Trust him; he <em>knows</em>.”</p>
<p>She sniffles, relinquishing her hesitations as she wraps her arms around him.  “But I … I don’t want to be a soldier!”</p>
<p>Papa kisses her forehead this time.  “You don’t have to be one if you don’t want to,” he insists.  There is a shift of movement where <em>Daidí</em> releases her and backs up a step to give them both some space.  At this point, Papa kneels beside her and lifts his hand next to hers, dark energy surrounding his.  “You have far more choices available to you now than when I was your age, whether that be as a soldier, a teacher or something else entirely.” </p>
<p>Niamh stares at their hands side-by-side.  There are noticeable differences between them, and yet so much about is the same.  She wiggles her fingers again, stares in fascination as Papa imitates the move, watches the dark energy softly crackle and hiss, eventually intersecting as he takes her hand in his.  She pulls her gaze from them a moment later and looks between the two men once more.  “Promise?” she whispers.</p>
<p><em>Daidí</em> returns to her other side and reaches out both of his hands, one taking Papa’s and the other taking hers.  “Promise.”</p>
<p>Taking a long, deep breath, she pushes to her feet.  Standing between them, her hands still in theirs, she nods.  “Alright.”  She trusts both of them with her life, always has, and that isn’t about to change now. </p>
<p>“We should go,” <em>Daidí</em> says quietly, but with a smile.  Niamh giggles softly; she’s heard the jokes about him saying that over the years.  “I’m sure your brother and grandmother are wondering what’s wrong.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Desperate Kisses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  Desperate kisses</p><p>mshenko   Caleb Shepard and Kaidan Alenko</p><p>featuring Oleg Petrovsky's chess set. :P</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a note:  I do NOT play chess myself.  The basic information here is what I've gleaned over watching my son play, reading some things online and what I've seen occasionally in movies.  I hope I got it right, but if not, my apologies!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shepard?”</p><p>Seated at the desk on the lower level of his cabin, Caleb calls out, “Down here, Kaidan,” but his attention is on the report he’s been trying for two hours to finish for Admiral Hackett.  The mission had been successful, they’d all come back relatively safe and sound, but something about the raid disturbs him on a deeper level than anything he’s ever come across before, only he can’t quite explain why.  It wasn’t any one thing, or what they found, or something <em>not </em>found, but deep in his gut, Caleb knows it’s important and he needs to impress that on the admiral.  And yet, words are failing him.</p><p>A moment passes before a soft puff of warm air flutters across the back of his neck while accompanied by a familiar, whiskey-warm voice.  “There you are.”</p><p>Caleb’s eyes close; he savors the kiss that brushes against the skin there and some small part of the tension bleeds out of his neck and shoulders.  He tilts his head slightly to the right opening up more space, and a soft, thrumming hum, practically a purr of appreciation, rumbles in his ear.  The next kiss, still light and gentle, leaves Caleb shivering but in all the most delicious ways.</p><p>The moment fades as Kaidan drops into the chair next to the desk, a smug smirk, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to Caleb, curving at his lips.  Caleb rolls his eyes but cannot hide his own grin, or the faintest hint of a flush in his cheeks, even as he turns his attention back to the report.  “I’ll be done in a minute,” he promises.</p><p>“Garrus and James said it was a rough one.”</p><p>Caleb grunts an affirmative then runs his hands over his face.  “That’s one way to put it,” he mutters darkly.</p><p>“Anything I can do?”</p><p>He stares at the report one last time; it’s as good as he can make it, he’s just been delaying the inevitable by not sending it off.  Whatever it is his instincts are screaming at him about just won’t clarify itself.  He presses the button and pushes his chair back, half-turning to face Kaidan.  “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>One thick, dark brow arches.  “That bad?”</p><p>Caleb nods once, slowly.  “That bad.”</p><p>He needs something else to think about, a distraction.  And, while Kaidan is one hell of a distraction at times, it’s going to take something big to …</p><p>Kaidan’s gaze shifts to the chess set on the corner of the desk between them.  With a deceptively casual motion, he reaches out and moves one of the pieces.  This game has been ongoing for days now, ever since their return to the ship after Brooks and the clone Shepard tried to steal it.  Whenever he comes by, Kaidan makes a move.  Caleb normally follows immediately after just so they both know where they’ve left off. </p><p>“Check,” Kaidan announces.</p><p>Caleb’s breath catches as his eyes dart to the board to examine the move Kaidan just made.  “You can’t be …  How did you …?”  Caleb’s good at chess.  He’s even better since he and Traynor started playing on a weekly basis.  But Kaidan?  These games are simple, harmless stress relief.  He knows Kaidan has a competitive streak in him; for that matter, so does Caleb.  But they just started this game a few days ago.  They can’t have played more than a couple handfuls of moves yet.  There is no way they’re even close to ending this game yet … is there?  His eyes flick over the pieces and their positions one by one, just to make sure.  He’d never go so far as accusing him of cheating; Kaidan doesn’t cheat, he’s just subtle and sneaky in the way he gets things to work and has more patience than all the saints combined.  He puts Caleb’s same traits to shame most of the time. </p><p>Finally, he sees it, the mistake he made, the opportunity Kaidan took advantage of, some two days ago.  With a grunt of disgust at himself, he shoves hard on the edge of the desk to push his chair back.  One lone figure, his King, of all pieces, topples to the floor.  “I’ll be damned.”  <em>That’s what I get for making my moves while still distracted by a mission debrief …</em></p><p>The smirk, still in place, can be heard in Kaidan’s still-purring voice as well.  “What’s the matter, commander?  Is that surrender I hear?”</p><p>Caleb pulls his gaze over to him.  His eyelids close to slits, but his focus is all on the major.  <em>Two can play that game, Alenko.  Let’s see how you like it when the shoe is on the other foot …</em></p><p>Rolling to his feet in one smooth motion, Caleb crosses the two steps so he can brace his arms on either side of the chair Kaidan is sitting in.  Kaidan sits back, but there’s a hint of curiosity mixed with delight in his eyes at the same time, and the smirk levels into a full-fledged grin.  Their relationship is still new, still developing, and so far, Kaidan has led most of the way contrary to Caleb’s nature as a leader.  It isn’t fear that holds Caleb back as much as it’s simply taken him a while to become comfortable with initiating anything more than a simple kiss between them.  His last relationship had been nearly fifteen years before; and while he’d loved her, as much as a seventeen year old knows of love at any rate, this with Kaidan was so much more.  He knows good and well if it hadn’t been for Kaidan pushing him, he would have walked out of the apartment that night and Caleb would have been left wondering about <em>could have beens</em>.  But Kaidan had pushed, and ever since, Caleb has been playing catch …  until now. </p><p>Caleb leans over Kaidan and returns the grin.  Proper inspiration has its place, after all.</p><p>He pauses, hovering over Kaidan’s lips with a hair’s breadth of space between them, waiting.  Their eyes locked, a smirk now playing at Caleb’s lips, he waits.  One moment.  Two.  By the third, he hears it, just the faintest desperate hitch in Kaidan’s breathing as if his patience is wearing thin.  Only then does Caleb descend, covering his mouth with his own.  The moment their lips touch, one hand moves around to the back of Kaidan’s head and holds him in place.  Kaidan doesn’t fight it.  His hands reach for Caleb’s shirt, closing around the material but otherwise remaining in place.  It starts light, cautious, gentle even, but interlaced with all of that is a heat that has nothing to do with Kaidan’s biotics and everything to do with the natural chemistry between them.  It surprises Caleb as it jolts straight through down to his toes.  Not that it happened, but by how needy and desperate it leaves him feeling.  Kaidan, who sits right here in front of him, his hands tangled in his shirt, and yet it isn’t enough.  Not by a long shot.</p><p>Caleb releases him, dropping his forehead to rest on Kaidan’s while greedily sucking in air.  He starts to pull away, and his smirk widens at the soft almost plaintive whimper Kaidan makes the back of his throat, his fingers reluctantly releasing their hold on Caleb’s shirt.  Caleb trails his hand down Kaidan’s arm until he catches his hand and tugs as he retreats one step and then another. </p><p>They meet the second Kaidan is on his feet, Caleb moving lightning quick to capture his mouth again.  There is nothing slow or gentle this time; everything is heat and strength and desperation.  Their arms tangle as they attempt to grasp hold of the other and for just a moment, the world around them tilts … until Caleb lands with a soft thud on the bed.  Kaidan falls half on top of him, barely missing an elbow in Caleb’s chest.  For a half second, they stare at one another in stunned silence.  Caleb is the first to start laughing.  Soft, easy, relaxed.  The smirk returns to Kaidan’s lips just before he joins him.  “Well,” Kaidan says, leaning over to press a quick, light kiss to the tip of Caleb’s nose, “that’s … different.”</p><p>Caleb sighs softly and rolls until their positions are reversed.  “Good different?”</p><p>“Oh, I think that’s guaranteed.”</p><p>Pressing a quick kiss to Kaidan’s lips, Caleb stares into his eyes for a long moment.  “Good.  Oh, by the way?”</p><p>Kaidan leans up, chasing Caleb’s lips as he pulls away.  “Yeah?”</p><p>A full-fledged grin settles across Caleb’s lips before he leans over and runs his nose against the side of Kaidan’s, murmuring, “Checkmate.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. A fist fight for Grunt and the space hamster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing Prompt:  A fist fight for Grunt and the space hamster</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Post-mission wrap up seems to take forever; Shepard doesn’t admit it aloud, and will vehemently deny it to anyone who suggests it, but it’s because he is worried. </p>
<p>The mission on Utukku didn’t go well, and the krogan are now down not just a scout team but the majority of Aralakh Company as well.  His concern isn’t about Wrex’s reaction to the lost krogan – <em>They died as warriors should, Shepard </em>– but of the fate of one krogan in particular.  Grunt barely made it out alive, by rights he shouldn’t have, and the last update he had from Dr. Chakwas indicates his situation is touch and go.  Both she and Mordin worked together, doing what they could for him, to the point of Mordin offering advice both professional as well as personal.  But he’s far from out of the woods.  The depth of Caleb’s worry is evident in the <em>Normandy</em>’s current speed run to the Citadel; still some fifteen hours away.</p>
<p>Caleb makes his way through the CIC and grabs the lift down to the Crew Deck, ignoring an urgent summons from Traynor in the process.  The deck is practically empty when the lift drops him off, though the few crew members present remain far out of his way.  He heads straight for the medbay.  Inside, Eve lies asleep, or at the very least in a deep meditative state, in the far corner of the room.  Not too far away from her, Mordin appears to be resting as well; it’s odd not to hear him chattering away beneath his breath as he works, but Caleb isn’t about to wake him.  Dr. Chakwas sits at her desk, her attention focused on a datapad in her hands.  Caleb tilts his head slightly trying to catch a peek at her face;  she <em>seems </em>to be reading, but he can’t tell if her eyes are closed or not from this angle.  He returns his attention to the task at hand, but as he looks around the room again …</p>
<p>“Where’s Grunt?”</p>
<p>The doctor jumps in her chair before turning toward him, a somewhat bewildered expression on her face as their eyes meet.  “Hmm?  Oh, hello, commander.”  She pauses to cover a yawn and stretches her arms over her head as she looks across the room.  And frowns.  She rises to her feet, musing quietly, “Where <em>is </em>Grunt?”</p>
<p>“You mean, you don’t know?”</p>
<p>A hint of pink floods her cheeks.  “I may have … fallen asleep for a moment.  My apologies.”  Rubbing her face with her hands, she asks, “EDI, where is Grunt?”</p>
<p>“Grunt is currently in Commander Shepard’s cabin,” the AI replies.</p>
<p>That announcement startles Caleb enough that he can’t move.  “What’s he doing there?”</p>
<p>“He is fist fighting with your pet hamster.”</p>
<p>Caleb and the doctor exchange a quick look before adrenaline rush kicks in.  He’s out the door and on his way to the lift in a heartbeat, shouting over his shoulder before the barrier closes behind him, “I’ll check back with you in a bit!”</p>
<p>Never before has the <em>Normandy</em>’s lift been so slow in arriving.  So slow, in fact, he’s tempted to ask EDI if it’s broken or stuck somewhere between decks.  But it arrives after what seems an eternity, though getting from the crew deck to his cabin pushes his patience to the limit.  During that journey, Caleb curses the Cerberus engineers who decided to put the captain’s quarters <em>above</em> everyone and everything instead of leaving it on the crew deck.  If it was still where it <em>should </em>be, the crisis might be averted.  By the time the doors open and he jumps out, Caleb is envisioning all sorts of possibilities for what he’ll find inside his cabin.  He slams his fist on the access panel and the door slides open …</p>
<p>The deep, rough but shaky rumble of Grunt’s laughter rolls through the room as Caleb steps inside.  Ahead of him, he sees the krogan standing in front of the fish tank. </p>
<p>“That’s it, little buddy,” Grunt rumbles, his breathing only slightly more labored than usual.  “Just like that.”</p>
<p>Caleb sees no sign of Boo as he stares down the stairs at the krogan, but that doesn’t mean anything.  How many times during their mission against the Collectors had Grunt come up to see the fish or visit the hamster under the guise of ‘training’ or some such nonsense?  Caleb let it go at the time, found it amusing and endearing, if he’s honest about it, and to see the injured warrior falling back to old habits is a relief as well as a curiosity.  The <em>why, </em>when it’s clear that the krogan is still suffering from his injuries, takes a bit more to understand.</p>
<p>But the one question that remains, is …  “Grunt, where’s Boo?”</p>
<p>More bandages than armor show on the krogan as he turns to look up the stairs.  “Shepard!” he bellows loudly.  Caleb fights the urge to cover his ears.  Grunt turns his head to his right, and it’s then that the adrenaline rush starts to recede.  There sitting on the krogan’s shoulder is Boo.  The creature glances over at Caleb, twitches his nose, then uses his front paws to shadowbox with Grunt’s chin.</p>
<p>“Ahhh, you got me, little buddy!”</p>
<p>Caleb folds his arms across his chest and leans his shoulder against the fish tank as he watches the krogan pretend to go down at the hands of Boo.  For his part, Boo squeaks in excitement once, then promptly goes to cleaning his paws and whiskers.  Caleb has to bite back a laugh of amusement when Grunt looks up at him.  “Feeling better?” he asks when he can manage not to laugh.</p>
<p>Chuckling, Grunt nods.  He struggles back to his feet – Caleb knows better than to try to help him – and slowly makes his way over to the hamster’s tank, setting him back inside with care.  “Thanks, Shepard,” the krogan says afterward.  “Had to check on my little buddy while I was here.”  A loud appreciative squeak echoes out of the top of the cage.</p>
<p>At this point, Caleb walks over to open the door and hold it for Grunt.  “I have no doubt he appreciates it,” he assures the krogan, “but next time, why not wait until you’re healed before you start roaming the ship?”  The lift is where he left it, doors open, and together they head back down to the medbay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. A Subtle Kindness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  a subtle kindness</p><p>James Vega and Steve Cortez</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life on a ship is always in motion, even outside of the CIC, even outside of wartime.  It’s easy to forget that it’s 04h12 when someone’s cooking in the galley or the lounge has someone catching a nap on the couch.  For James Vega, it’s frustrating.  All he wants is a quiet space to sit and think.  He’s got stuff on his mind.  Heavy stuff.  The kind of stuff that makes the head hurt, and the old memories come back to haunt.  He heard about a place, though.  Beneath Engineering, but not in the Shuttle Bay.  He overheard Shepard make some crack to that crazy biotic, Jack, about it when she was aboard.  But, if it means peace and quiet, it’s worth checking out.</p><p>He descends the stairs quickly, the draw of dim lights as enticing as a pretty lady on the dance floor.  There’s cargo stored here now, but he can move around it, so it’ll do.  A cot is shoved into the back corner.  That’ll do too.</p><p>He sits, takes a deep breath, then pulls a datapad from his pocket.  He thumbs it on and stares at it, rereading the message contained within for the thousandth time.</p><p>
  <em>… You are hereby officially recommended to Interplanetary Combatives Training …</em>
</p><p>He mutters a curse in Spanish beneath his breath and slams the pad face down onto the cot before covering his face with his hands …  <em>Madre de Dios</em>, how did this happen?</p><p>“You lead a merry chase, Mr. Vega.”</p><p>The voice – Cortez’ voice – comes at him out of nowhere; completely unexpected, and James jumps … nearly falling onto the floor in the process.  Another curse in his native tongue escapes as he stares daggers at his friend.  “<em>Pendejo!</em>  You tryin’ to scare me out of ten years of my life, man?”</p><p>Steve chuckles softly as he ventures closer.  “You, Mr. Vega?” he counters, putting as much astonishment as he can into the words.  He is within five feet when he feels the tension rolling off James’ shoulders in waves.  Something isn’t right, and it isn’t because Steve surprised him.  He spies the datapad nearby, face down.  He’s seen it before lying on James’ workstation in the armory, but he’s never asked about it.  He understands the need for space, privacy.  So, for now he holds his tongue and walks over to lean his hips against a stack of storage crates.  Shifting his arms to fold over his chest, he eyes his long-time friend with just a hint of concern.  Whatever it is, it hasn’t affected his work or his ability out in the field.  He knows James has family back on Earth, figures if it was about them, it would be more obvious. </p><p>Truth is, Steve isn’t concerned about that side of things.  All he knows is something is troubling his friend … and he now has an opportunity to return a favor long overdue.  He reaches into the pouch pockets on both pantlegs of his fatigues and withdraws a bottle and two glasses.</p><p>James keeps wary eyes on him.  “What’s that, Esteban?”</p><p>Steve chuckles as he pours.  He’s going to regret this tomorrow, most likely, but for now it’s worth it.  “Why, Mr. Vega, don’t tell me you don’t recognize the galaxy’s best Mescal?”</p><p>James freezes, eyes widening in surprise.  “How did you …?”</p><p>Handing one glass over, he waits for James to take it before replying, “I’m procurement officer, remember?  I don’t take my duties lightly.”</p><p>James mutters beneath his breath, but a moment later he tosses back the liquid and swallows … and starts coughing immediately.  When he can finally speak again, he hands his glass back over.  Cortez is already waiting with the bottle.  “Thanks.”</p><p>“If you can wait just a moment, we can do this properly,” Cortez chides gently as he sets the bottle aside then raises his glass.  “To what are we drinking?”</p><p>James falls silent for a long minute and simply stares at the liquid in his glass.  He debates silently, then takes the datapad and tosses it at his friend.  “See for yourself.”</p><p>It takes Cortez a moment to read the message … and for full understanding to hit.  “I see,” he says softly.  It doesn’t take much of an effort to think back to their meet up after the events of Fehl Prime when they’d gone on a drinking binge together at the cheapest bar they could find on Arcturus and didn’t stop until one of them passed out.  It seems like forever ago … and at other times, just yesterday.  “Let me guess, you think they made the wrong call.”</p><p>Vega’s broad shoulders roll as he shrugs.  “You know what happened.  You can’t tell me you honestly think they made the right call with that.”  He gestures at the pad in Cortez’ hand.  “I damn near lost everyone on my team!”</p><p>“But you got the job done,” Steve reminds him.  “Look, you’ve seen the commander, been around when he’s made some of the tough calls.”</p><p>James snorts softly, but nods.  “Sure.”</p><p>“Then you know what it takes to be N7.  You did the same thing on that mission; someone thinks you should be recognized for that.  That’s all.”</p><p>Vega downs the liquid in his glass, the observation hitting far too close to home.  “Still doesn’t mean I’m N-material,” he mutters, reaching his glass out again.</p><p>Cortez pours.  “I think you’re wrong,” he insists.  “And you know what, James?  You know I’m right.”</p><p>James runs a hand over his face and is silent for a minute.  Finally sitting back, he leans against the bulkhead and stares Cortez in the eyes.  Kind, compassionate eyes.  He’s been through some shit, too, but of late he’s been … better.  Sounding more positive.  Hopeful.  James tilts his head.  “What’s gotten into you, man?  You’re as chipper as Sparks these days.”</p><p>Cortez chuckles.  “A … new outlook on things, shall we say?” he offers.  “Look, if you really have doubts, talk to the commander about it.  I bet you another bottle of Mescal that he agrees with me.”</p><p>James rolls his eyes.  “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.”</p><p>Cortez walks over to stand in front of Vega.  “In the meantime,” he says, lowering his glass so they can clink them together, “here’s to friendship.”</p><p>James sighs.  “Ah, man, that’s the same one you used last time!”</p><p>“Well, you <em>did </em>come to my aid, as I recall.”</p><p>“Pfft.  Only ‘cause I was …  Oh, what’s the point of arguing with you?”  He clinks his glass against Cortez’ and lifts it.  “To friendship.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. I don't want to lose you again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>angsty writing prompt:  I don't want to lose you again</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Set up for a future story I intend to write for them ...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Time.  </em>Why is it there never seems to be enough time for the two of them? </p>
<p>Kaidan sits alone at the bedside, arms resting along the rail that keeps Caleb from rolling out – not that he will; he’s lying there as unconscious and unmoving as he did when the rescue team first pulled him off the Citadel over a decade ago.  But then, at least, there was a reason for it.  They knew why he was unconscious, what caused it, what needed fixing. </p>
<p>This time …  This time, no one seems to know <em>any</em>thing, and it’s driving Kaidan crazy.</p>
<p>He reaches out a hand and laces his fingers through Caleb’s.  There is no warmth, no hint of life in it.  It feels almost as cold as the chill of winter air blowing up a storm outside the building.  Careful of the medical hook ups, Kaidan wraps his second hand around it and reaches for the dark energy that makes his body spike at higher temperatures.  Not enough to cause damage, simply to warm things up a bit.  Several minutes later, he sets the hand carefully back onto the bed and resumes his earlier position. </p>
<p>They’ve been here for a week … no, he corrects himself, ten days.  Ever since Niamh found <em>daid</em><em>í</em> unconscious on the floor of the kitchen at the orchard when she went to check on lunch.  The sound of her terrified screams echoing throughout the house will haunt Kaidan until death, he knows, but she reacted quickly and they managed to get him to the military hospital here in Vancouver within hours.  Niamh and her brother come by each day, but they stay the evenings with his mother.  The room here is small and filled with equipment, medical staff, Shepard and himself; there’s no way they could all fit comfortably all the time, as much as they might like to.</p>
<p>The days are spent with doctors and nurses shuffling in and out of the room; running tests, taking blood samples, seeking for anything that might tell them what is happening to Shepard.  Dr. Chakwas has been consulted, of course, but she isn’t anywhere close that she can come in to examine him on her own.</p>
<p>Kaidan starts to drift until his arm slips off the railing and the jerky movement yanks him to full awareness.  Rubbing his face, his eyes fall onto the clock on the wall.  O3h51.  His lips pull into a grimace that fades when his gaze falls back to Caleb.  Eyes closed.  His stubble so dark against even paler than usual features.  There are more creases at the corners of his eyes, gained from stress and strain, no doubt, but also a decade of living and loving.  He smiles far more now than he did back in their military days, something for which Kaidan is grateful, too.  Kaidan swallows past a tightness in his throat.  <em>All I need is a smile … just one, and I’ll know you’ll be fine …</em> </p>
<p>But no smile is forthcoming, so he carefully reaches a hand out to brush back a few strands of hair that have fallen over Caleb’s eyes.  <em>Where are you?</em>  <em>Where have you gone that I can’t follow?  I promised I’d always have your six and you agreed … how can I do that if you don’t take me with you?</em> </p>
<p>He sighs softly, shakes his head and stares down at Caleb’s unmoving hand.  It’s ridiculous, of course.  He knows Caleb didn’t do this on purpose.  Their life together is better than ever, so much promise for them for the years to come.  Why would he do anything to jeopardize that? </p>
<p>His hands drop and he takes Caleb’s hand in his again, pulling it up to rub lightly against his cheek.  “I don’t want to lose you again,” he whispers, voice cracking.  Even he’s a bit startled to hear the plaintiveness to it.  How long has it been since Alchera?  Since he lost him the first time?  And still it bothers him to this level?  Closing his eyes tightly, he hugs Caleb’s hand closer.  “Don’t go,” he chokes.  “Stay.  Here.  With me …  Caleb ….”</p>
<p>The seconds on the clock continue to tick by slowly; the hand remains cold and still in his own ...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. I failed. I promised to keep them safe and now ...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angsty writing prompt:  I failed.  I promised to keep them safe and now ...</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko  ... and the kids, sort of</p><p>mshenko</p><p>Post ME3 - part of a story plot I have in mind for them!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kaidan isn’t one prone to worry when it comes to Shepard; leastwise, not in the sense of whether or not he can get a job done or not.  Time and again, he’s witnessed the Savior of the Citadel, of the entire galaxy, succeed where others can’t even come close.  But just because he can doesn’t mean there isn’t a cost, even these days, and sometimes that cost is personal. </p><p>The first hint of a problem comes in a message from his mother.  <em>You need to get home ASAP.  Caleb needs you.</em></p><p>Two short sentences that don’t necessarily mean anything more than there is a problem needing solving; but the words, the fact that it’s Caleb Shepard who <em>needs him</em>, that’s enough to send a shiver down his spine and threaten an implosion.  He takes a deep breath, steels himself, forces the tendrils of panic deep in his belly back into submission.  He can’t do that.  Not now, not without more information as to what is going on.  The words could mean anything.  Granted, his mother is as practical and calm as he is in a crisis;  <em>Caleb needs you, </em>isn’t her standard way of calling him home.  That’s probably the one aspect of the message that worries him most.  The getting home ASAP?  She’s been tied to the Alliance most of her life one way or another, whether through him or, before that, his father.  And besides, as the second human Spectre, he won’t have an issue getting home quickly.  A quick message to Councilor Osoba and he’s out the door with access to the ‘company vehicle’ and a pilot in less than fifteen minutes.</p><p>The shuttle gets him from the Citadel to the orchard in under five hours.  Landing in the open field to the east of the house, he grabs his bag and heads immediately to the house.  His first impression is that everything seems normal, but when he nears the house, Caleb throws the door open and stalks outside in his direction.  Whatever the problem is, seeing his husband’s face in this moment assures him there <em>is </em>one, and it’s bad.  There’s a tightness around his eyes and lips Kaidan hasn’t seen since the last days of the Reaper War, and his lips are pressed together into such a thin line they’re barely visible.  And in his eyes is a fear the likes of which Kaidan has rarely ever seen, the last time being on the battlefields in London when the <em>Normandy </em>came to evac Kaidan and James. </p><p>Swallowing past trepidation, Kaidan asks, “What is it?  Mom said –.”</p><p>Caleb reaches for him, pulls him close and wraps his arms so tight Kaidan can barely breathe.  “It’s Niamh and Tadhg,” Caleb whispers.  “They’re gone.”</p><p>Disbelief leaves Kaidan frozen, and he pushes away just enough to get a good look at Caleb’s face to reevaluate.  There’s concern, yes.  No hint of anything that might suggest anything happened between him and the kids that might have sent them running; he knows that isn’t likely anyway, Caleb’s relationship with them is rock solid.  “What happened?”</p><p>He wraps an arm around Caleb’s shoulders and leads him inside the house.  He feels the shrug rather than sees it.  “<em>A Dhia dhílis, </em>Kaidan!I failed!  I promised to keep them safe and now…”</p><p>The moment they’re through the doors, Kaidan guides him over to sit on the sofa.  He drops down next to him, takes his hands securely in his, saying, “Calm down, <em>mo Shearc</em>, and talk to me.”  He squeezes Caleb’s hands once, waits for him to respond.  “This isn’t like you.”</p><p>Caleb shudders, but keeps his eyes on Kaidan the entire time.  “Ellis called, said he needed help for about an hour,” he explains.  Nothing unusual there.  Ellis, one of the crew that assists with the upkeep of the orchard, has been around since Kaidan was young.  “I didn’t want to leave them – they were working on homework and you know how distracted they can get.”</p><p>Kaidan chuckles softly and nods.  He does know.  Kids will be kids, after all. </p><p>“But Tadhg promised he and Niamh would finish their work before I got back.”  Caleb pauses, his eyes shifting to the doorway beyond Kaidan’s shoulder that leads into the kitchen.  “Ellis and I finished in half an hour, I wasn’t even gone forty-five minutes by the time I got back … but when I came inside, they were gone.”</p><p>Kaidan frowns.  “Gone?”</p><p>“Their school books were there, closed up and sitting as if they completed their work as promised,” Caleb continues, “but they were nowhere to be found.  No sign that they left the house.  Nothing.”</p><p>More chills run down Kaidan’s spine as this sinks in.  “You … looked all around?”  He hates to ask; this is Commander Fucking Shepard, after all.  “Every room?  The barn?”</p><p>Caleb nods.  His eyes close and he murmurs something in Irish Kaidan can’t quite hear.  “I checked the house thoroughly first.  I called your mother, had her contact you, then I searched again.  I called Ellis and the two of us went through every room and crawl space in here.  We checked the barn, drove around the orchard … hell, we went over to your uncle’s place just to make sure they hadn’t gone there.  <em>Mo ghrá</em>, they’ve just … vanished.”  He inhales deeply, opens his eyes and stares into Kaidan’s.  “They didn’t run,” he insists.  “They had no reason to.  They can’t disappear into thin air, it isn’t possible.  That means …”  His breath catches.  “That means someone had to take them.”</p><p>The idea isn’t as shocking to Kaidan as it might have been, though it’s no less concerning.  “Taken?  By whom?”</p><p>“I don’t know …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. I don't want to lose you again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angsty Writing Prompt:  I don't want to lose you again    (I actually received three of the same prompt, but at least I have multiple pairings!)</p>
<p>mshenko</p>
<p>John Michael Shepard and Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Remind me again why we’re doing this?”</p>
<p>The cabin is small compared to what he’s used to on the <em>Normandy</em>, but it’s private and that’s all that matters at this point.  The quick trip to the mess scrounges up some juice and a couple of ration bars – not much different from what they’ve been eating as they travel across country, but the juice is fresh-ish, and tasty.  Kaidan enters the tiny room first.  Michael follows, securing the door and while Kaidan sits.  Only then does Shepard join him, taking a seat.  “Which part?” he asks as he hands over the juice. </p>
<p>His fellow biotic downs it practically in one gulp.  “Three biotics caged up traveling under the ocean for several days in a vehicle designed to hold no more than thirty?  Doesn’t sound like a sane plan in my book,” Kaidan argues.  A smirk tugs at his lips as he looks over at Shepard.  “Or anyone’s, for that matter.”</p>
<p>Michael chuckles, takes the glass from Kaidan and sets it on a shelf nearby out of the way.  “It’s either that, or risk getting taken out of the air by the reapers,” he replies.  “And frankly, after all we’ve been through, I’d rather not get batted around like a biotiball.”</p>
<p>A soft snort of wry amusement fills the space as Kaidan lies back on the bunk.  Michael turns so he can see his face, but otherwise doesn’t move.  Kaidan’s rolls to the side to give him some space and accomplishes the same thing.  “Why do you have to bring logic into this?”</p>
<p>There is a hint of a teasing note in Kaidan’s voice, just enough to trigger a memory … one that’s too late to do anything about.  Grimacing, he curses himself silently.  He hasn’t thought about it in years, in all honesty, and guilt sneaks in as a sudden companion.  “Shit,” he mutters, picking at his fingernails as a distraction from it.  It doesn’t help.  “Why didn’t you say something?  Or, at the very least, remind me?”</p>
<p>Kaidan shrugs.  “Not much to say.  When you’re right, you’re right.”  The smile his lips twist into is less than full.  “And if anything, Commander Shepard is always right …”</p>
<p>Michael jumps to his feet and paces the small quarters.  Fewer than ten steps gets him from one end to the other where he spins on his heel and starts back the direction from which he came.  “Claustrophobia isn’t something to joke about,” he bites out angrily after a minute.</p>
<p>As Michael makes yet another precision turn on his heel, he catches Kaidan’s glance, notices the way his eyes narrow, and is suddenly yanked back in time.</p>
<p>
  <em>“What the hell happened back there, Alenko?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Seated in front of his locker, Kaidan is struggling to remove his armor. Whatever it is, it doesn’t take much to recognize it’s still affecting him.  His hands are shaky and his face paler than usual.  If Shepard didn’t know better, he’d guess he was having a reaction to … to something, though what is anyone’s guess.  But if there were environmental hazards down there, neither he nor Williams suffered from it.  Allergies, perhaps?  Maybe one of his migraines?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I … It won’t happen again, sir,” Kaidan promises without looking up.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Michael drops to sit next to the Sentinel.  In a quieter tone, he says, “Why did you hesitate?  That rachni would have killed you if –!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“Then </em>why<em>?” Kaidan shifts uneasily, but eventually looks over.  As their eyes meet, Michael sees something he doesn’t expect: fear.  Kaidan has told him, in some detail, about his past, but this … this is something else altogether.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Closed in spaces,” Kaidan finally rasps, a small shudder running through him.  “I … I’ve never …”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Michael groans, drops his head into his hands.  How many places have they gone where they’ve ended up inside a mine or cave or even a small ship and had to deal with combat in close quarters?  “Why now?  Why didn’t you say something back at the beginning?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Reaching down, Kaidan makes another attempt to remove the lower part of his armor.  This time, it comes free and he sits for a long minute just holding it in his hands.  “It’s like the migraines,” he says after a while.  “Normally, it isn’t bad enough to be an issue.  But even when it is, I can’t let it affect my ability to focus on the mission….”</em>
</p>
<p>There’s a tightness at the corner of Kaidan’s eyes now that reminds Michael of that day.  Returning to sit on the edge of the bunk, he reaches over and takes Kaidan’s hand in his.  “Dammit, what am I supposed to do with you?” he mutters irritably.  “Dr. Chakwas isn’t around to provide any –.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine.”  Kaidan turns his hand so their fingers lace together.  “I’ve survived all these years in the Alliance, I can last a few days under water closed up in a submarine.”</p>
<p>This time it’s Shepard’s gaze that narrows.  “Stress is as dangerous as combat fatigue.”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s eyes close as he laughs, but there is no humor in it.  “Careful there, Shepard.  You’ll have me thinking  you care.” </p>
<p>His eyes darken and he leans over Kaidan until he’s hovering just over the man’s lips; close enough that his breath fans across his face.  Kaidan’s lips relax into a smile, but his eyes remain shut.  “I don’t want to lose you again,” Michael whispers, just a hint of desperation in his voice.</p>
<p>Kaidan’s eyes pop open.  “Lose me again?  I was the one who lost <em>you</em>, remember?”</p>
<p>“Depends on your point of view.”  His lips ghost across Kaidan’s; his smile folds into the gentle pressure.  “I might be leading this damned fool crusade, but I can’t do that without you at my side.”</p>
<p>Kaidan sighs and murmurs drowsily, “I’ll be fine.  Just let me sleep until we get there …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Do it.  Don't do it.  We'll lose either way.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angsty Writing Prompt:  Do it.  Don't do it.  We'll lose either way.</p><p>mshenko</p><p>Kristofer Shepard (Spacer/War Hero/Engineer), Kaidan Alenko</p><p>OTP: All the Time in the World</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Masking his reaction to any situation while not purely instinct, is something Kaidan excels at.  From the moment Conatix showed up on his doorstep to whisk him away to Jump Zero, through his years of service in the Alliance and as a Spectre, keeping the truth of his feelings or reactions from the rest of the galaxy at large has been easy.</p><p>Except where Kristofer Shepard is concerned.  Only he has ever been able to leave Kaidan floundering.  Not constantly, certainly not recklessly, but if there is anyone who can pull something unexpected from him, it’s been Shepard.</p><p>Kaidan stands in the doorway, eyes wide and staring inside.  Pale, far too thin, several new scars – one a slash down his left cheek, the other a thin line along his right temple, and one narrowly missing his Adam’s apple that trails down beneath the collar of his shirt – marking his skin.  But the eyes are the same vibrant green as ever.  Except, when they look back at him, there is something missing.</p><p>He takes a step inside the room.  “Kris?”</p><p>The blankness doesn’t leave.  “Do I know you?”</p><p>Horror fills Kaidan’s gut.  <em>Okay, maybe … maybe there’s amnesia?  A hit to the head … maybe where that scar along the temple is?  Unseen injuries?  </em>He’s alone in the doorway; he left Liara, Tali and Garrus trying to extract what files they could from the consoles in the office and the lab.  “You do,” he replies calmly and takes another step inside.  “But it’s been a while.”</p><p>Kris pauses, tilts his head slightly to the right.  Rising from the desk, he walks around and Kaidan gets is first full look at his husband in far too long.  He limps awkwardly – <em>knee?  Hip? </em>– but he stands without help.  “I don’t remember.”</p><p>Kaidan thinks back to that day at the orchard when he faced Kristofer’s family face to face after returning to Earth.  <em>The Alliance says he is dead, but we know he isn’t.  We want you to find him…  </em>It’s taken a long time, but he has.</p><p>Swallowing past a lump in his throat, Kaidan takes another step.  Kris doesn’t seem to be worried about it, but he isn’t closing the distance either.  “We need to go,” Kaidan explains.  He tilts his chin in the direction of Kris’ leg.  “Do you need help?”</p><p>Kristofer’s head drops and he looks down as if startled.  He takes a tentative step, tests his weight, then nods.  “I can manage.”</p><p>“We might have to run.”</p><p>“I’ll manage.”</p><p>Kaidan leads the way out of the room and retraces his steps down the hall.  Pressing his comm, he says, “Garrus?  What’s your status?”</p><p>“<em>Almost done here, Alenko.  Liara and Tali are setting the charges now.</em>”</p><p>“We’re on our way back.”</p><p>“<em>You found him?  Good.</em>”</p><p>Kaidan glances over at Kris who stands just a step behind him; he’s currently looking around the empty hallway, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in his eyes, but no recognition.  Biting his lip, he adds, “Yeah, I found him, but … things aren’t what they were.”</p><p>Disconnecting the comm, he continues on.  Kristofer follows.  Eventually, they turn down the hall leading to the lab; the bodies of the three people he killed lying haphazardly where they fell.  Kris doesn’t seem to pay any attention to them as they pass by.  “Are you going to run more tests?”</p><p>Kaidan stops in his tracks and turns to face him.  “Tests?”</p><p>Nodding, Kristofer explains, “They brought me here for tests.  Some physical, some psychological.”  He shrugs.  “Didn’t see the point, really, but no one ever asked my opinion.”</p><p>For the briefest of moments, Kaidan catches a glimpse of the subtle humor Shepard once used to put on display so openly and freely.  In the next moment, it’s gone as Kris’s gaze returns to the door ahead of them.  “No,” Kaidan manages after a moment, “no more tests.  We’ve come to take you home.”</p><p>When their eyes meet this time, Kaidan sees confusion return, but it just flits behind his eyes, disappearing almost immediately.  Apparently, Kris trusts him.  That, at least, is something. </p><p>It’s another ten minutes before they catch up to the others, by which point Liara and Tali are in the office with Garrus.  The turian rises from the desk and hands over an OSD to Kaidan.  “That’s all of it,” he says, his eyes shifting to look at Shepard.  Liara and Tali, too, glance over, but Kaidan guesses they can sense something is off as they hold back speaking directly to him.</p><p>Kaidan nods and pockets the OSD.  That’s for later.  “Let’s get out of here,” he says.  He half turns toward Kris.  “We need to go,” he says gently.  “This place is going to blow in about fifteen minutes.”  To his right, Tali nods.</p><p>Kristofer stares over at him.  “Should we?”</p><p>Liara, Garrus and Tali all exchange a quick look.  “Should we what?” Liara asks.</p><p>Kris looks around the room, growing dismay spreading across his face.  “This … this is home.”</p><p>Kaidan nods at the others to head on out as he crosses over to Kristofer’s side.  He places one hand on his shoulder and squeezes reassuringly.  “This isn’t home, Kris.  This is …”  He hesitates, uncertain if he should give him specifics.  What if it sends him into a panic?  Triggers a violent reaction?  He’s N7 trained; no matter his current physical state, he’s strong and more than capable in hand to hand combat.  How will the news that he’s been used by the remnants of Cerberus hit him?  On the other hand, it could trigger his memory … or memories back in time?  “Your family is home,” he decides.  “They asked me to find you.”</p><p>Kris frowns, searching around the room again.  Eventually, he shrugs and seems disinterested.  “Do it … or don’t do it,” he finally replies.  “We’ll lose either way.”  He walks around Kaidan tracing the path taken by the others. </p><p>Kaidan, left speechless, can only stare after him.  <em>What the hell does that mean?</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kissing Prompt =  A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.</p><p>mshenko</p><p>Kristofer Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>OTP: All the Time in the World</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nights are chilly this time of year, and Kaidan doesn’t usually spend much time outside after dark because of it.  With a hint of snow in the air and the occasional gust that hits the corner of the front porch at just the right angle it feels like shards of ice piercing through clothing – even one of his mother’s thick, knitted sweaters – as well as skin, there’s nothing to recommend being out here.</p><p>Except that he is, and he doesn’t plan to head inside anytime soon.</p><p>It’s been weeks, months even, since finding Kristofer.  The return to the orchard and his reunion with his family notwithstanding, his status since that time has been slow to improve.  Kaidan is adamant not to push it – he wants Kris to remember what they had, if he can, and if not perhaps rekindle it in a new way, and that takes time, perhaps even starting all over again.  It’s frustrating, to say the least, but he knows in the end it will be worth it – assuming, of course, Kristofer evolves in the same manner as before.  But at this point in his life, Kaidan has nothing but time, much to the chagrin of the Council and Hackett.  He has no compunction about retirement – he’s saved most of what he’s earned over the years, plus there’s the family orchard to fall back on, but there is no way he will leave Kris to go through this on his own, and that’s despite whatever happens to their relationship.  And though Hackett assures him there are plenty of options that remain open to a man with his skills and talents, Kaidan is well aware he’s far too old to be running across battlefields.  He is done; end of story.  A new chapter to his life is open and it’s time to figure out what story is on the pages.</p><p>The flakes begin to drift lazily from the sky, looping and whirling as they descend.  Smiling around the brim of his mug, Kaidan lifts it to his lips and takes a careful sip.  The warmth of the coffee helps chase away the chill, though the caffeine is something he <em>doesn’t </em>need this late in the day.  Still, sleeping has been a challenge with or without it, and he’d rather be warm out here now if he can.  The disturbing dreams have nothing to do with the caffeine anyway.</p><p>A soft click behind him is the only warning that the door is opening, but Kaidan knows who it has to be.  His shoulders tighten and he straightens.  Some habits are hard to break now that he’s not in the Alliance. </p><p>“Am I intruding?”</p><p>Kaidan relaxes a tick.  “No, of course not,” he replies, turning into a more open and welcoming stance.  He leans his hip against the railing and gestures carefully with the mug, inviting Kristofer to join him.  “Something on your mind?”</p><p>Kristofer eases out onto the porch slowly.  His hip hasn’t quite healed yet since the corrective surgery Dr. Chakwas performed, but it is slowly improving.  The hitch in his step is less pronounced these days, too.  Like Kaidan, he’s dressed warmly to ward off the chill in the air, a heavy leather bomber jacket over another of his mother’s creations, a thick cream colored turtleneck covered in cable stitches.  Kaidan has no idea what kind of magic it takes to turn yarn into such things, but he appreciates the results.  He’s always thought his husband was good looking; tonight, even more so. </p><p>Kristofer leans forward and rests his hands along the top of the railing as he steps next to Kaidan.  Slowly, he inhales deeply and he turns his face to the sky.  “It’s so different to see it from here,” he murmurs after a minute or two.</p><p>Kaidan’s gaze follows his line of sight.  “The stars?”</p><p>Kris nods.  His dark hair is longer than Kaidan’s used to and it’s curling slightly at the ends.  A gentle breeze flicks at it and a few snowflakes land briefly before melting away.  “I grew up out … there,” he gestures towards the sky with his hand.  “Stars, planets, galaxies … they were my neighbors.  Down here, it feels a bit …”  He shakes his head.  “I don’t know.  Too open?”</p><p>Kaidan chuckles and smiles at him.  “Well, if you’re looking for that closed in feeling, we could always go stay at the apartment in Vancouver.”</p><p>A half-smile steals across Kristofer’s lips as his head lowers and stares at his hands.  “Oh, this is fine.  I’m not complaining, I promise.”  The smile widens.  “It’s incredible out here.”</p><p>Kaidan turns to adopt a similar pose.  “It was a nice place to grow up when I was younger,” he agrees, taking a sip of his coffee.  “Though it never seemed this cold.”</p><p>“Mmm.”  Kristofer chuckles softly.  He then nods ahead of them.  “That lake out beyond the barn?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Is that where you used to skate?”</p><p>Kaidan stiffens, the mug halfway to his lips again.  <em>Skate … </em>Coffee forgotten, his gaze darts over to stare at Kris.  <em>Do you remember?</em>  Hope bubbles in his chest so fast and furious, it aches.  “Dad would help ice it over for me every year,” he replies when he trusts his voice to remain steady.  “Spent more time out there than studying, much to Mom’s chagrin.”  Kristofer chuckles then meets his gaze. </p><p><em>That </em>is when Kaidan notices the difference.  The look, the <em>knowing </em>in his eyes.  His breath catches and it’s all he can do to set the mug down on the railing without tipping it over.  “Kris …?”</p><p>Kristofer folds his arms across his chest as he faces Kaidan.  “As I recall, you said something about being this hotshot hockey player – right winger, wasn’t it? –  who ended up black and blue all the time but decided it matched the blue and white of your uniform?”</p><p>Kaidan’s eyes widen further.  He remembers that discussion, way back in their SR1 days.  The two of them, plus Williams and Garrus.  He spent more time trying to explain the basics of hockey to the turian than he did telling his story.  “I …”</p><p>Kris leans back against one of the support posts, but never breaks eye contact.  “What about that tree you climbed when you were ten?  The one where you said you could see the stars so close –.”</p><p>“– that it felt like being in high atmo,” Kaidan finishes.  He runs his hands over his face.  “You …  How much do you remember?”</p><p>Straightening, Kris steps closer.  “Most of it,” he admits.  He reaches for Kaidan’s hand, the one where their rings <em>should </em>be, but neither is wearing.  “I was washing the dishes and I got distracted.”  He turns his hand so Kaidan can see it; an angry red welt running down the meaty pad of his index finger.  It’s less than an inch long.</p><p>Kaidan flinches, but immediately starts to examine it.  Kristofer doesn’t resist.  Already, Kaidan sees the tell-tale signs of healing thanks to the cybernetic implants and various skin and other weaves Cerberus used when bringing Kris back to life.  It doesn’t take long to realize he’s going to be just fine … but Kaidan also doesn’t release his hold.  “Must’ve been one hell of a distraction,” he jests.</p><p>A smirk creeps across Kristofer’s lips as in a deliberately slow movement he eyes Kaidan from head to foot and back again.  “You could say that.”  He curls his fingers around Kaidan’s and tugs him closer until there’s only a couple of inches between them.  “Can you ever forgive me?” he asks softly.</p><p>Kaidan frowns.  “For what?  Forgetting?  Having amnesia?”</p><p>Kris shakes his head.  “For sending you off the field in London.”</p><p>Groaning, Kaidan wraps his arms around him and pulls him the rest of the way in before touching his forehead with his own.  “I’ll admit, I didn’t like it much at the time,” he murmurs, “but I understood why.”</p><p>Kris slides his arms up around Kaidan’s shoulders, leaning into the touch, eyes closing partway, shoulders relaxing more than they have in a long time.  His fingers toy with Kaidan’s hair, moving carefully when he nears the implant at the base of his neck.  “I didn’t want to,” he admits, “but to take you any further … you would have died, you know that, right?”</p><p>Kaidan sighs, but responds with just a hint of movement of his head.  “I do.”</p><p>“I needed to know one of us would live.”</p><p>Kaidan huff softly as he turns his head just enough so he can nuzzle his nose along the side of Kris’s.  “And now we both have.”</p><p>Kristofer’s smile is as bright as the scattered moonlight peeking through the storm clouds above.  He presses a light kiss across Kaidan’s lips.  It’s quick and easy, and he pulls away almost as soon as he arrives, but as Kaidan opens his mouth to protest, Kris follows it with another on the edge of his jaw.  Then another a fraction lower.  Then lower.  And lower.  Eventually, he reaches the edge of the collar of Kaidan’s sweater and hovers there, right next to his Adam’s apple. </p><p>Kaidan, overwhelmed by the unexpected rush of affection, tightens his arms around Kris and swallows.  Kris laughs softly, plants another kiss, then retraces his path back up to Kaidan’s lips again.  When he arrives, he slides his hands around to cradle Kaidan’s face, their eyes meeting once more.  “Hello there, handsome,” he murmurs.  “Nice to see you again after so long …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Shore Leave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is nothing but a blurb I wrote to accompany some gorgeous art I had done of Caleb Shepard by the talented xla-hainex over on tumblr.  I'm so appreciative for her time and effort in bringing him to life for me!  THIS is what he looks like, what I came close to in game.  THIS IS MY BOY!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
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<p> </p>
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<p>Stepping off the lift into the CIC, Caleb spotted Traynor at her post.  He crossed over in his usual casual manner, propping his left arm against the railing of the galaxy map, a smile curving on his lips.  “Don’t you ever take time off when we’re on leave?” he asks, only half teasing.  Her presence here just days before had been critical to him and his team retaking the <em>Normandy</em> from Brooks and his clone. </p>
<p>She’s focused, but a hint of sass peeks through.  “<em>Some</em>body has to make sure we’re prepared when we head out again, commander.”</p>
<p>Caleb grins.  Traynor is a gem – she reminds him of Tréasa back in Shannon; spirit, sass and one who is just as willing to give as take.  Settling a hand on her shoulder, he pats gently.  “Just make sure you take some time for yourself.  I don’t need my comms specialist burning out just as we’re about to confront the Reapers in the final push.  Understood?”  He releases her and walks on.</p>
<p>Traynor finally gets a look at him as he rounds the galaxy map display.  Next thing Caleb is aware of is an appreciative whistle aimed at him.  He pauses, turns back and grins.  “Something you need to say, specialist?”</p>
<p>She winks at him.  “Looking good, there, commander.  Hot date?”</p>
<p>It takes every bit of his willpower combined with all of his training as an N7 to keep a straight face and not blush.  Jeans and a t-shirt are hardly worth the attention, and he’s been wearing his N7 jacket ever since the beginning of this war.  Nothing new there.  “And if I do?”</p>
<p>Traynor’s grin widens.  “Then it’d be a crime to keep him waiting.  Sir.”  She flashes him a quick salute.  “See you later!”</p>
<p>With only the vaguest of head shakes, Caleb turns away.  He’s out the hatch in less than three minutes, ignoring a last-minute shout from Joker – he has no doubt Traynor’s said something to him already.  He scans the dock, identifies his contact and hustles over. </p>
<p>Kaidan stands next to a stack of crates being prepped to load into the docking bay.  He, too, gives an appreciative hum as Caleb walks up.  “Looking good, commander.”</p>
<p>Caleb snorts softly, eyes rolling.  “Not you, too.”</p>
<p>One dark eyebrow arches; Kaidan gives his best <em>who, me?</em> look, but Caleb isn’t buying it.  “Is there something wrong with appreciating –.”</p>
<p>He’s had enough with the teasing and he leans over, ghosts a quick kiss across Kaidan’s lips in a very hit and run style, and when he pulls back, a smirk on his lips.  He drops his voice an octave or so – a trick he’s picked up from Kaidan recently – as he says, “You’re not looking so bad yourself.  Shall we go?  I seem to recall you saying something about steak sandwiches awaiting as we were coming in?”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose</p><p>mshenko</p><p>Caleb Sheaprd, Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bunking together on the <em>Normandy</em> is far different than the apartment and takes some getting used to.  For starters, it’s a tighter fit, even in a cabin as grand as this, and it doesn’t come without awkward moments, occasional flushed cheeks, and mumbled apologies.  Mix in the fact the relationship is still relatively new and uncertain – so new and uncertain, in fact, Caleb still has trouble wrapping his head around <em>why </em>Kaidan stays when he, Caleb, is still trying to sort things out – and it might as well be a comedy of errors.  But, after three nights of stilted conversations and accidental toe stepping with the occasional elbow in the ribs in the middle of the night, it takes a completely different turn.</p><p>Thanks to EDI’s assistance, they have a destination, sort of, and the <em>Normandy </em>is ready to head out to find Dr. Garneau.  The flight will take them the better part of a day as well as five relay jumps, then the search really begins.  Still, it doesn’t come without problems.  A last minute repair, additional supplies to onload, and a mix-up with the paperwork the likes of which Shepard has never seen before and decides to let Joker deal with.  Even then, after all of that, their departure from the Citadel is unexpectedly delayed <em>again</em>.  It takes an additional six hours to sort out, and Caleb eventually pulls his Spectre rank on the poor dockmaster when his level of irritation hits boiling point -  what else can he do?  the mission is <em>vital </em>to the war effort – and they finally get underway.  On his way back through the CIC, he sets the galaxy map for the Caleston Rift.  The fact that Traynnor says nothing, doesn’t even <em>look </em>at him, hints that he has his <em>don’t fuck with me </em>mask on, so he continues on and heads up to his cabin to relax.  There are certain aspects of this mission that generate stress for reasons he can’t quite explain, and he’s tired; and that doesn’t include his current rooming situation.</p><p>When he enters the cabin, he finds Kaidan seated at the desk on the lower level.  Soft, calming music plays over the sound system, and Caleb’s mindset immediately shifts fearing that Kaidan is suffering one of his migraines.  He cushions his steps as much as he can, but it’s impossible to keep silent.  When Kaidan turns to face him, however, there is a smile on his face; tired, but pleased to see him.  That’s something.  “Finally on our way?”</p><p>Caleb nods.  “Couldn’t you hear Joker telling-off Citadel control all the way up here?”  He doesn’t openly admit he gave the helmsman permission to do so.</p><p>Kaidan’s laugh is nearly as endearing as the grin he gives Caleb.  It’s new, nothing Caleb’s ever seen before … but it’s  more and more common, ever since <em>that </em>night.  It is so endearing his belly flutters wildly in response, each and every time.  “It’s kind of hard not to hear him, actually.”</p><p>It’s also impossible not to laugh along with him.</p><p>He shrugs out of his N7 jacket and tosses it over the back of the chair near the bed for now and turns his attention to stretching.  First, he rolls his shoulders, arms over his head, then he bends at the waist to loosen his lower back.  When he stands straight again, Kaidan is watching him.  Something about the look stirs up the inner impish side inside Caleb, one that hasn’t existed in … well, certainly not since his return to this life, and possibly further back than that.  With a smirk pulling at his lips, his voice drops an octave.  “See something you like, major?”</p><p>Kaidan seems startled for a minute, but the sheepish grin that follows is worth it.  “Maybe.”  There’s a hint of his voice dropping too, and Caleb’s smirk grows. </p><p>It takes a few minutes for them to ready for bed, but soon they’re beneath the covers and settling in for the night.  Caleb has a datapad in hand, last minute updates on the progress of the Crucible and additional requests from Hackett, but Kaidan lays down as if headed to sleep.  Thirty minutes pass before Caleb sets the pad aside and turns off his light … then realizes Kaidan hasn’t turned off his.  He’s asleep, chest rising and falling evenly, and Caleb is reluctant to wake him.  Instead, he pushes himself up just enough so he can reach over toward the light…</p><p>Somehow, he turns it off and the room darkens.  Not completely dark, that’s impossible with the fish tank and the window overhead, but enough that they can get some sleep.  Carefully, Caleb backtracks to his side of the bed, but when he’s almost clear and free, his left arm buckles under him and he falls.  It’s embarrassing, really, and there isn’t any pain, but as he drops suddenly and he lands on Kaidan’s right shoulder, his lips brush across Kaidan’s accidentally. </p><p>He freezes, waiting to see if Kaidan wakes.  The major shifts in his sleep, rolls slightly toward the inside of the bed.  Caleb holds his breath … and watches a slow, lazy smile curve across his lips.  “Once more with feeling?” he murmurs in a voice rough with sleep.</p><p>The words take a moment to register, but Caleb laughs as he lowers himself to kiss him again, this time with purpose.  This time, he takes it slow and easy, warm and tender … at least until Kaidan ups the ante by sliding a hand around Caleb’s head, holding him close until Caleb has to break away to catch a breath.  He stares down into Kaidan’s eyes, sees a twinkle of mischief flicker there, even in the darkness, and realizes that this was <em>planned</em>.  It’s one of those moments that he’s discovered he rather enjoys; the unexpected and subtle joy that comes from being together.  With a laugh, Caleb leans in for one last quick hit and run, all desire and lust this time, then flops back onto his side of the bed.  He falls asleep within moments, though he doesn’t miss the echoes of Kaidan’s laughter or the way the biotic slides his arm around Caleb’s waist and snuggles close.</p>
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<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Just do one last thing: kiss me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  Just do one last thing: kiss me</p><p>FReyder</p><p>F Ryder, Reyes Vidal</p><p>**not sure if this was an ask on tumblr that disappeared or if it's something I grabbed because it was inspiration, but here you go!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”</p><p>The plan, as Ryder knew it, was to meet with their angaran Resistance contact, Shena, find out more about Vehn Terev’s role in the kidnapping of Moshe Sjefa and maybe something to give them an advantage in getting her back.</p><p>Plans, she’d discovered over the years, had a habit of falling apart at the seams.  This one was no different, especially when their ‘contact’ turned out to be someone from her past.</p><p>She bought a few extra seconds staring across the counter; advantage number one.  Situated thus, there was no way he could see or hear the slight hitch in her breath or the way her eyes slammed shut. </p><p><em>Or can he?  He was always a sketchy bastard at best, content to get his way no matter what.</em> </p><p>Her lips parted just a fraction and she gave Umi the barest hint of a nod.  She needed a drink.  Maybe two.</p><p>During the precious seconds Umi spent pouring drinks, Ryder debated.  <em>He won’t remember.  He can’t.  Two ships passing in the night, that’s all it was.  Dinner, drinks, a few hours spent enjoying themselves.  That was it… </em></p><p>Only it wasn’t, not on her end, and his last words to her as they parted ways, still echoed in her mind.  Over six hundred years ago, she vowed she would kill him if she ever saw him again.  End of story.  Fate was, if she looked at it a certain way, kind to her for the first time since arriving in Andromeda by placing him here.</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him approach and take the drinks.  She could no longer avoid it; the only question was, would he remember?  She’d changed since then, grown.  She wasn’t the naïve Alliance recruit she’d been back then, but the human Pathfinder. </p><p>Straightening, she turned to face him, flipping her braid over her left shoulder with a small flick of her head.  “I’ve got time for a drink,” she replied, accepting the glass he handed to her.  She tipped the contents into her mouth while keeping her eyes on him in the process.  He appeared for all the world to be oblivious to their connection.  <em>Typical.</em></p><p>He returned his empty glass to the counter, saying, “Shena, but you can call me –.”</p><p>Ryder’s lips curled upwards as she set her cup beside his.  She folded her arms across her chest and leaned her hip against the bar, cutting him off and completing his introduction, “Reyes.  Yes, I know.”</p><p>The first crack in his calm exterior began to show; just a twitch at the corner of his eyes, the slightest flaring of his nostrils.  But he was good, always so good, at keeping his cool.  “I hate code names.”</p><p>It was strange having the upper hand in their conversation, but a heady sensation at the same time.  “I was expecting someone more … angaran.”</p><p>“The Resistance pays me to supply information, among other things,” he explained. </p><p>“Of course, they do,” she murmured.  His head tilted toward her briefly before he gestured to a small table away from the bar.  She acquiesced and followed.  “You haven’t changed one bit.” </p><p>As she took a seat across from him, she saw the puzzled expression.  A small, satisfied smile crossed her lips.  <em>Good.  </em>But she said nothing, and instead focused on the reason for this meeting.  By the end, they had a plan of sorts. </p><p>But it was as he rose and started to leave, she called out, “How do I reach you if this all goes south?” </p><p>He half turned back toward her and winked. </p><p>She knew what came next, and she’d be damned if she let it happen again.  She caught up with him on the other side of the bar.  “Reyes, wait, you forgot something!”</p><p>He paused and glanced back at her.  It was impossible to miss the half-smirk at his lips now, the matching twinkle in his eyes.  “And what might that be?”</p><p>Leaning in toward him and pitching her voice so it was just loud enough for him to hear over the din in the bar, she replied, “Don’t you remember?”  Taking a deep breath, she repeated his last words to her back in the Milky Way, <em>“Just do one last thing: Kiss me.”</em> </p><p>Behind them, Umi cleared her throat loudly, protesting that the drinks still needed to be paid for.  Ryder kept her eyes on Reyes, savoring the stunned expression that came over him, the smirk fading quickly and reappearing on her lips.  Only then did she turn back to Umi and lift her omni-tool.  “Keep the change,” she told the asari before walking around Reyes and taking the steps two at a time. </p><p>Killing might be overly dramatic, she decided as she stepped outside into the fresh air and tipped her head up to soak in the warmth of the sun for a moment.  Putting him in his place would do for now.  The rest, as the saying went, remained to be seen …</p>
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<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Don't Give Up - I Can't Lose You Too</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angst prompt:  Don't give up - I can't lose you too</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Darkness greets him as he enters the hospital room.  That doesn’t bother him; the darkness is like an old friend or a familiar blanket, warm, inviting, comforting.  But Kaidan lies on the bed before him this time, his limp form unmoving.  Memories return in a rush, haunting and horrific.  The way the Cerberus-bot grabs Kaidan by his helmet and pounds him unrelentingly against the wall of the destroyed shuttle.  It is an image Caleb will never forget.  A nightmare of epic proportions.  He’s lost far too many people to this point, and now not only are they in a galactic-sized war, but his best friend, whether Kaidan agrees with that assessment or not of late, lies comatose.</p><p>Caleb’s eyes dart around the room.  He’s alone, but for how long he has no idea.  He’s filled with an inexplicable urge, a <em>need, </em>and he takes a step toward the bed unable to stop himself, coming to a halt only when he’s a foot or so from the edge.  “Come on, Kaidan,” he says.  “Fight this!  We need you, now more than ever.” </p><p>His voice chokes off as his throat closes.  After everything they’ve been through together, just the thought of not having him in this war is almost more than Caleb can bear. </p><p>Carefully, he touches the back of Kaidan’s hand, wrapping it around it.  “Don’t you dare give up on me, major.”  It comes out almost barkingly, like an order, but the rest is a broken, hoarse rasp.  “I can’t lose you, too!” </p><p>There is no time to be spent here with him as he would like.  The best he can offer are his words, a quick prayer, hope.  His hand convulses lightly around the biotic’s, emotion finally getting the better of him.  His chest is tight, aching, and he keeps his eyes locked onto Kaidan’s face for some sort of reaction, a sign that he is still in there, aware; it’s disheartening, if not unsurprising, to find none.  Caleb finally manages a deep, cleansing breath and squeezes one last time before releasing his hold and turning away. </p><p>Just before he loses the connection, fingertips to fingertips, he feels the faintest hint of a twitch. </p><p>Glancing back over his shoulder, there is no other sign, but for the first time since leaving Mars, since fleeing the reapers in Sol, hope stirs in his breast and Caleb smiles …</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. An incredibly loud and painful high five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Physical Affection prompt:  An incredibly loud and painful high five</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mshenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When James proposes the idea of a volleyball game to be held in the shuttle bay – beach rules, so he says, during the middle of the breakfast rush – Caleb thinks he’s kidding at first.  Vega insists it’s to ‘cheer the troops’ – and by troops, he means the marine detail assigned to the ship – but that’s a lie and they both know it.  It might start that way, but every other crew member on board who isn’t on duty will show up.  That’s a given.  Caleb isn’t sure he wants to find out just how many people aren’t on duty at the same time; that might mean having to find assignments for them, which means more paperwork, and he hates paperwork.  But there’s something in Vega’s eyes – a look – he can’t quite make out.  It’s important to him, so Caleb agrees. </p><p>He’s at the security checkpoint on his way to check in with Admiral Raan when his omni-tool pings.  Vega’s found his partner.  Caleb sighs.  It’s only been twenty minutes.  Instinct screams this is a set up.  Knowing Vega, it probably is.  He’s about as obvious as a ten-ton rhino at times, and this is one of them.  But Caleb agreed, and he won’t back down.  He should probably start thinking about his own partner. </p><p>Two hours later, another ping; match is set for third watch.  Caleb grimaces and ignores the strange looks he gets from Perkins and Smith in the CIC.  Third watch means more than half the ship will likely be down to observe.  Great.  And he still needs to find a partner.</p><p>He heads down to the crew deck, thinking to check in with Garrus about the status of the Thanix cannons.  Last time they had to shoot their way through some reapers, one hadn’t worked as it should, and the turian has been spending all his free time calibrating the damned thing.  But as Caleb is about to hit the button, he opts instead to head down to Engineering and check in with Kaidan.  In the week or so he’s been back on the <em>Normandy</em>, he’s been surprisingly quiet and withdrawn, something Caleb has noticed, but said nothing about to this point.  Perhaps it’s time to have the major come out of his self-imposed shell for a bit.</p><p>Kaidan gives him permission to enter almost immediately, and Caleb enters with his question already half formed on his lips to find the man standing in the middle of the room, shirtless, his attention and his biotics focused on a small crate suspended in the air above his head.  Rather than risk distracting him and having it come crashing down, Caleb waits.  A couple of minutes later, Kaidan lowers the crate to the floor and turns, wiping his brow with his forearm.  “Hey, Shepard.  What’s up?”</p><p>“Vega has challenged me to a volleyball match,” he explains.  “Third watch, shuttle bay, beach rules, he says.”</p><p>Kaidan chuckles.  “Wouldn’t a poker game have been better?”</p><p>Caleb grins.  He’s crap at poker, but he’s damn good at bluffing his way through.  Most of the time, anyway.  “Probably, but I wasn’t given a choice.”</p><p>Kaidan pulls a tshirt over his head, tucking it into his pants.  “Sounds interesting.” </p><p>“Want to be my partner?”</p><p>It’s the first time Caleb has ever seen Kaidan do an honest to god double take.  “Me?”</p><p>He shrugs.  “Why not?  Might give me the edge I need.”</p><p>Kaidan snorts softly.  “Somehow, I doubt Vega will let me use my biotics.”</p><p>That’s when Caleb’s smile shifts to a full fledged grin.  “Maybe not, but we took down Saren and Sovereign.  I think we can take him down.  Want to give it a go?”</p><p>The major’s head tilts as he considers it.  “Why not?”</p><p>“Good.  I’ll meet you there.”</p><p>The rest of the day passes quickly, probably too quickly, but Caleb can’t find a way to slow it, and unfortunately no last minute ground mission requests come in from Admiral Hackett before third watch.  He heads down to the shuttle bay to find Kaidan chatting with Vega and Cortez – that was an easy guess – all three apparently ready to go.  Caleb removes his jacket and sets it aside before nodding.  “Alright, let’s do this.”</p><p>A small crowd is gathered, and he’s surprised to see Dr. Chakwas among them.  Their eyes meet and she nods, a small, sly smile tilting at the left corner of her lips, but she manages to contain it.  Caleb just shakes his head and walks over to his and Kaidan’s side of the net.  He really doesn’t want to know what that’s about.</p><p>“No biotics,” Vega shouts over.</p><p>Caleb and Kaidan glance at one another and shrug.  “Serve it up, lieutenant.  I’m going to enjoy this.”</p><p>The match ends up surprisingly competitive.  Vega and Cortez make a fine team, one Caleb is pretty certain has played together before.  He and Kaidan need a few rounds before they get in sync with one another, but once they do, it’s the difference between night and day.  They catch up and even move ahead, finally taking the first set.  The second set goes to Vega and Cortez.  The third and last set comes down to the very last point, and by the time it ends, the ball falling in favor of him and Kaidan, Caleb is exhausted.  Sweat drips down his temples, his t-shirt is soaked and he swears he’s twisted his knee – the look Chakwas gives him pretty much assures she believes the same – but the sensation of winning is more than enough to compensate.</p><p>The minute the ball hits, Caleb turns towards Kaidan and grins at him and raises his hand for a victory high five.  The major is already moving to do the same.  Their hands connect above their heads; the sound as they hit echoes loudly throughout the shuttle bay.  Caleb grimaces, and can see a wince at the corner of Kaidan’s eyes, and everyone on the deck turns and stares …</p><p>As their hands lower, Caleb squeezes Kaidan’s briefly, gently, before releasing.  Through clenched teeth and in a voice only loud enough for him to hear, he says, “Ouch!”</p><p>Kaidan snorts and mutters, “Shit, that hurt!”</p><p>A moment later, Vega and Cortez duck beneath the ‘net’ and both men school their faces.  They are flush with victory, one hard earned.  They aren’t about to let on about this …. </p>
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<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Did you just agree with me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  Did you just agree with me?</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Garrus Vakarian, Ashley Williams - early days</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Favorite sniper rifle.”</p><p>Caleb sits back in his seat, eyes focused on Williams, and considers.  As an Infiltrator, he’s had his hands on all the various sniper rifles the Alliance has access too.  As Specter, he’s come across a few more.  It’s a weighty subject, dependent upon the criteria involved, and he picked up a very promising Spectre model the last time they were at the Citadel, but there hasn’t been time to check it out yet.  That requires Williams <em>not </em>being at her work station and Wrex and Garrus being off duty as well.  First time around, he wants this baby all to himself.  So far, his companions haven’t been accommodating in that regard. </p><p>The silence drags on.  Williams snickers.  Shepard’s focus on her narrows.  Alenko joins them, sliding into the seat next to Williams and taking a sip of his coffee.  He’s smart enough not to ask what’s going on, but Caleb can tell by the arched eyebrow he’s curious.  A moment later, Garrus joins them.</p><p>“Come on, commander,” Williams needles with a grin.  “Times a‘wasting.”</p><p>Caleb has a competitive streak in him, no doubt about it.  Williams thinks she’s going to ‘win’ this round by outing him on his new purchase.  She was in the CIC when he boarded with the case; this is the first time she’s said anything about it. </p><p>Garrus looks back and forth between them, his mandibles fluttering in a manner that suggests confusion.  Caleb has no sympathy.  Not when it comes to his weapons, and especially not with anyone else who is sniper proficient.  Hammersmith, he might have shared it with, but that’s a whole other story in itself. </p><p>“Why do I feel like I missed something?” Garrus asks, looking over at Alenko.</p><p>Kaidan chuckles.  “Because you did,” he replies.  “We both did.”</p><p>“Favorite sniper rifle,” Williams repeats.  Her eyes don’t move away from Shepard.  “Waiting.”</p><p>The singsong quality of her voice reminds Caleb of his <em>Reds </em>days.  Leaning forward and quashing that thought, decides to stall.  “Earth-made, or anything goes?”</p><p>Her grin widens.  “Anything goes,” she confirms with a firm nod.</p><p>Good.  “HMWSR.”</p><p>Her brow furrows, forming a V-shape between her eyes.  “You just make that up, Skipper?”</p><p>This time, it’s Garrus who laughs.  “Standard issue Spectre gear,” he explains.  “The most damage and accurate sniper rifle you can get at the moment.  A bit pricy, but …”</p><p>Caleb sits back again and folds his arms across his chest, smug smile at his lips.  “Add in the combat optics package, and you’re all set.”</p><p>Silence falls again broken only when Garrus nods.  “Absolutely.”</p><p>And <em>that </em>startles Caleb more than anything.  He is getting to know the turian better with each passing day, but more than once they’d clash over something that shouldn’t be an issue.  He’s more than aware of Garrus’ preferences for good quality equipment, and he’s supplied the crew with the best he can, but it isn’t always easy.  And, as selfish as it might be, Caleb isn’t going to sacrifice his newest addition simply because the turian has similar training.  Shepard is the N7, the Spectre, after all.  “Did you just agree with me?”</p><p>The turian’s mandibles twitch.  “Yes?”</p><p>Caleb chuckles.  He roses to his feet and pats Garrus’ shoulder as he leaves the table.  Now that Williams knows about the rifle, there is no point in hiding it any longer.  Time to get to work.  “Hey, Williams,” he calls back over his shoulder on the way to his cabin, “what do we have in the way of combat optics packages in the armory?”</p><p>A grin spreads across her face and she jumps to her feet to follow.  After several feet, she turns back and waves at Garrus to follow.  “You’d better let me pull them out, sir,” she replies to the commander.  “You’ll just make a mess of things …”</p>
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<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Pillow Fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this was sort of a loose/informal writing prompt based off events in Sims 3 when I created Caleb Shepard and Kaidan Alenko over there.  </p><p>Pillow Fight</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Making a bed to military precision is easy enough, if time consuming – consuming only because he can find far better and more entertaining ways to spend those minutes with Kaidan – but it’s a necessity, and better to get it done now than to leave it until right before bed when they are distracted.  He’s spent his career – his <em>life </em>– able to focus on the job at hand, whatever the mission requires, and he isn’t about to stop that now.  Especially when the greatest distraction of his life stands on the other side of the bed, waiting.</p><p>The fitted sheet is easy enough to manage.  He tucks the two corners on his side in quick, precise movements, then places his knee on top of the sheet and mattress to keep his balance while leaning halfway across.  He’s tall and his arms long enough to reach the far corner, but a strong hand is waiting, ready to assist. </p><p>Fingers brush and tangle, a soft chuckle fills the air.  “You still don’t know how to ask for help, do you?”</p><p>Caleb huffs softly.  “This job is better done by one,” he argues, tucking the corner securely around the mattress.  “Faster that way.”</p><p>Kaidan runs his fingers along the edge of the fabric and finds the last corner, snagging it and tugging to stretch it out.  “Not always,” he replies as he slides it easily around the mattress.</p><p>Caleb rises, sends a quick smirk in the major’s direction, then grabs the duvet off the nearby chair.  It’s folded into quarters and he places it precisely in the center of the bed – a trick he’s come up with over the years and one that works well.  Within seconds, it covers the bed as it should, corner to corner.  “You were saying?”  He glances over to where Kaidan stands … only he isn’t there anymore.  With a frown marring his face, he turns …</p><p>His peripheral vision saves him, eyes slamming shut and head turning just enough out of the way before contact is made.  A startled murfle escapes his lips but it is stifled by the thick feathered pillow.  Reaction has him reaching for it automatically.  It falls into his hands without difficulty.  “Jesus, Kaidan!” he breathes, shaking his head once to remove any lingering sting from the contact.  “What are you – ?”</p><p>He realizes his mistake instantly.  His arm rises this time, blocking a blow.  On the other side of a second pillow, a smug smirk greets him.  “You need to relax, Shepard,” Kaidan insists.  “Learn to live a little.” </p><p>His voice is low, rumbling, and Caleb melts a little as it washes over him.  It takes all of his concentration and willpower to remain on task.  “I know how to live,” he argues.  “Too busy trying not to die lately.”</p><p>Their gazes meet and it’s impossible not to read the silent challenge inside Kaidan’s dark, whiskey-colored eyes.  A soft frown mars Caleb’s brow.  “What’s gotten into you, Alenko?”</p><p>The smirk remains on his lips, a fire of delight building; Caleb has only ever seen him like this once.  They aren’t on Utukku fighting their way free of the rachni at the moment, however.  <em>Why the hell am I suddenly your target?</em></p><p>“You need to relax,” Kaidan replies.  “Have a little fun.”</p><p>“And shoving a pillow in my face will do that.”  It’s a matter of fact statement, not a question.</p><p>The smirk widens and Kaidan’s chuckle fills the room.  “You make it sound more like battlefield skirmish.”</p><p>Dropping his hands but securing the corner of the pillow between his fingers, Caleb’s hands rest at his hips as he stands there staring at him.  “A pillow fight?  Really?”</p><p>Kaidan drops his pillow onto the bed as he walks over, a grin on his face.  Leaning in, he brushes a quick kiss across Caleb’s lips.  “So you <em>have </em>heard of them.  I was beginning to wonder.”</p><p>“Heard of, yes.  Doesn’t mean I’ve ever been in one.”  A soft sigh filled with a hint of regret slips past Caleb’s lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair.  “I was an only child, in the <em>Reds </em>by the time I was fourteen.  Not the best environment for such things.”</p><p>Kaidan’s hand slides up to the back of his head, gently tugging.  Their foreheads meet, touch, rest for a half a moment before he pulls back.  “All the more reason for one now,” he murmurs.  “C’mon, Shepard, haven’t you ever wanted to have an honest to goodness pillow fight?”</p><p>Tilting his head, Caleb says, “As I recall, you are an only child too.”</p><p>Kaidan grins.  “I have my ways …”</p><p>“You are impossible.”  It comes out as a grumble, but there is a hint of agreement to it.  Enough that even when Caleb finally decides to react, he’s too late.  Kaidan’s pillow is back and in his face before he even has his raised.  “Mffff!”</p><p>The ‘fight’ feels more like a war in some ways once Caleb can see again.  Adrenaline rushes through him, putting his senses on full alert.  A sheen of bluish haze surrounds Kaidan a moment later – not for offensive purposes but defensive, but Caleb doesn’t mind.  Hell, he doesn’t even think about it.  All he sees is his <em>target</em>.  The bed presents a fairly large obstacle, however, and once they both have banged their shins against the frame at least three times each, the battle moves out into the hallway for safety. </p><p>Caleb loses track of how long it lasts, but never takes eyes off Kaidan who manages to give as well as he receives, too.  And though it’s competitive – at their level of training, it’s impossible to be any other way when life and death hang in the balance every single day – there is laughter.  Joy.  Amusement.  <em>Fun</em>.</p><p>It comes to an end when Caleb, after having Kaidan’s pillow stuffed into his face yet <em>again</em>, grabs him by the front of his shirt, drops his own ‘weapon’ and pushes him hard up against the wall.  The kiss that follows is heated, hungry and very, very thorough.  The sounds that escape Kaidan’s throat as a result leave Caleb wondering if this isn’t another ploy just to stir something up between them; but it doesn’t really matter.  The answer is more than obvious as they stand there in each other’s arms. </p><p>Pulling his head back, Caleb braces his hands on the wall to either side of Kaidan’s head and rests their foreheads while struggling to catch his breath.  This time, the smug smirk curves on his lips.  “H-how was that, <em>mo shearc</em>?”</p><p>Kaidan uses his fingers to comb some of Caleb’s hair out of his eyes as a soft smile curls around his lips.  “Not too bad for a beginner.” </p><p>The hand eventually slides behind his head, pulling him close for a much tamer kiss this time.  When Caleb retreats, however, he sees the spark back, the flames trying to kick back to life.  Caleb groans softly, but something in the look sparks his own competitive streak.  “Again?”</p><p>“I have my reputation to uphold.”</p><p>Caleb snorts softly.  “I can think of far better ways to bolster your reputation.”</p><p>The flames ignite.  “Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?”  His hand slides down Caleb’s arm so their fingers tangle together loosely. </p><p>Caleb grins as he grabs his pillow off the floor and retreats a step to allow Kaidan the opportunity to move.  As they walk in the direction of the bedroom, he replies, “I thought I did.  It’s all about subtlety.  Why do you think I made the bed in the first place?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing Prompt: Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko    Also, Kandra Alenko</p><p>OTP: Biotic Pinball Wizard</p><p>**This occurs right after K's Kafe**</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>** follow up to K’s Kafe**</p><p> </p><p>The minute Kandra leaves for the kitchen and is out of sight, Shepard leans slightly toward Kaidan and lowers his voice.  “Your sister is something else,” he murmurs, the laugh lines around his eyes creasing deeper. </p><p>Kaidan grins.  “That she is,” he replies.  “Just a word of warning – she may be a civilian, but getting on her bad side is an inherently <em>bad idea</em>.”</p><p>One of Shepard’s brows arches.  “And you know this from personal experience?”</p><p>He nods.  “I’ve seen her in action before.”  He pushes to his feet, despite Kandra’s protests, and starts to gather the rest of the dishes into a stack.  Before setting his on the top, he rescues the last bite of a spring roll from his plate and pops it into his mouth.  It’s when he reaches for the stack of plates, still chewing the bite, that he notices Shepard’s gaze narrow in on him.  <em>Target acquired.</em>  Startled, he swallows the bite before he’s really ready and chokes out, “What?”</p><p>The left side of Shepard’s lips curves upward in an almost predatory sort of manner.  “You missed a spot.”</p><p>Kaidan frowns.  “I missed a sp- !”</p><p>Shepard lunges forward in a heartbeat, his hand wrapping carefully around the back of Kaidan’s head.  The move catches Kaidan off guard and the plates clatter back to the table.  His hip bumps the chair as he stumbles backward, but Shepard manages to stay with him.  “Michael, what the – ?”</p><p>Shepard’s grin widens.  Hovering over Kaidan’s lips, his tongue darts out and when it draws back, Kaidan can see a hint of a sprout or maybe it’s lemongrass, he can’t tell for sure this close.  Shepard licks his lips and swallows a moment later.  “Not bad,” he murmurs, “but you taste better.” </p><p>“I what – ?”</p><p>Shepard’s lips descend just as quickly as before, but Kaidan’s instincts are ready.  He slides his arms around Shepard’s shoulders for balance and meets the contact with just as much fervor. </p><p>If there’s one thing Kaidan knows about Shepard, it’s that the man can make him lose track of anything, everything, but most especially his surroundings.  Time is merely a suggestion at this point … at least until he hears the soft clapping coming from across the room.  Tearing his lips away, he briefly rests his forehead against Shepard’s before glancing to his left.  “Kan, I can explain …”</p><p>Kandra stands just inside the room.  She leans with her back against the wall, the tray tucked beneath her arm, and an all too knowing smirk on her lips.  Still clapping, she pushes forward and walks over to join them.  “Oh, by all means, continue,” she says with a grin as she gathers the plates Kaidan had been trying to collect.  She lifts her hand and waves her fingers in the space between herself and them.  “I am not here …”</p><p>Shepard, being Shepard, laughs.  It starts as a chuckle, building into a relaxed huff a moment later.  “I told you,” he says to Kaidan though his eyes meet Kandra’s, “Your sister is something else!”</p><p>Turning back to them, the tray propped against her hand and shoulder with stacked plates atop it, Kandra offers a hint of a bow before she turns away.  “Oh, by the way,” she calls back at the door, winking at the both of them before pushing it open, “dessert is chocolate mousse.”</p><p>Shifting his eyes to Kaidan, he ignores the eye roll and instead leans in to plant another kiss across his lips.  “I love chocolate …”</p><p>With a soft snort, Kandra disappears through the door.  Kaidan sighs.  “You are a menace,” he mutters as he drops into his seat. </p><p>Shepard takes his again, but he reaches a hand across the table.  Kaidan might be a bit embarrassed, the hint of color in his cheeks certainly suggests that, but he isn’t so put out he won’t tangle his fingers with Shepard’s.  “I’m <em>your </em>menace,” Shepard reminds him.</p><p>Finally, Kaidan’s lips twitch.  His fingers tighten around Michael’s.  “Thank God for that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Do I look like I want you to go?  No?  Then please.  Stay.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>angst (?) writing prompt:  Do I look like I want you to go?  No?  Then please.  Stay.</p><p>mshenko</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It isn’t much, but at least it’s your own space,” Shepard explains as he unlocks the door to the starboard cargo hold on the Engineering deck.  The irony that the only private space available for the major is on <em>this</em> deck does not escape him.  Briefly, he wonders what, if any, Spectre work Kaidan will accomplish with Adams and the engineering crew so close by.  Would the tech temptation prove to be too much? </p><p>The room is essentially empty as the lights come up.  “A bed and desk will be in place before we leave dock.  Feel free to requisition anything else you need.”  He turns to find Kaidan standing hesitantly in the doorway.  Shepard’s head tilts.  “Not to your liking?”</p><p>“No, it isn’t that,” Kaidan replies, entering the room.  The door slides shut behind him and he drops his duffle on a storage crate nearby.  “It’s just …” </p><p>Caleb allows a few seconds to pass in silence before suggesting, “It’s just weird being back?”</p><p>Kaidan chuckles softly, rubs the back of his neck with his hand.  “Yeah, I guess that’s it.”  He takes a few steps deeper into the room and wanders over to the bulkhead window to stare out.  “Nice view.”</p><p>Caleb is reminded of a discussion years ago back when they served together on the SR1.  His lips twitch slightly as he walks over to join him, teasing, “Careful there, major, your romantic side is showing again.”</p><p>Kaidan appears almost startled at first, the deer-in-the-headlights sort of look that Caleb occasionally sees across a battlefield.  It doesn’t last long, though.  “Heh, yeah …”  Kaidan pauses or a moment, brow narrowing, then he snaps his fingers.  “Oh, that’s right, our first trip to the Citadel.  Right after you were made Spectre, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Caleb nods.  “And Ashley, queen of snark, riding your ass as if she was the staff lieutenant.”  He chuckles softly.  The memory isn’t quite as painful these days. </p><p>“I miss her sometimes.”</p><p>“Same.” </p><p>Silence fills the space around them, and for some reason, Caleb finds it a bit awkward.  It’s good to see Kaidan healthy and whole again after Mars, and he’s been looking forward to having him back aboard the <em>Normandy</em>, fighting the reapers side by side like they did back on the SR1.  But he’s also aware that since Mars, something has changed between them.  He’s still trying to figure out what, exactly, but rather than subjecting Kaidan to it, turns toward the door.  “I should probably go.”</p><p>He makes it halfway across the room before Kaidan speaks up.  “Does it look like I want you to go?”</p><p>Startled by such a response, Caleb turns to face him.  Kaidan stands stiffly, appears slightly ill at ease, but the look in his eyes suggests something completely different.  Shepard isn’t sure how to respond.</p><p>In the end, Kaidan does it for him.  “No? Then please. Stay.”</p><p>Relief of a sort flows through Caleb resulting in a soft laugh and a smile.  “You’ve changed,” he comments as he retraces his steps.  This time, he leans against the bulkhead and folds his arms across his chest while eyeing his friend.  “More … confident.  Self-assured.”  The smile widens.  “Blunt.”</p><p>There’s a hint of a flush in Kaidan’s cheeks.  “I’ll blame it on you.” </p><p>“Oh, I don’t know, I think it was always there.”  Caleb’s head tilts again as he watches Kaidan.  “Just hidden away, looking for the right moment to escape.”</p><p>Kaidan ignores him, pointedly looking out the window at the Citadel docks.  “Yeah?” </p><p>He nods.  “And in case I wasn’t clear, I don’t mean you’ve changed in a bad way.”</p><p>“I didn’t take it that way, Shepard.”</p><p>“Good.” </p><p>The silence returns, this time less awkward, and Shepard remains where he is but closes his eyes.  It doesn’t escape him that this is, for all intents and purposes, the first time they’ve shared an assignment and can just spend time talking.  No rush, no combat, no life or death.  “Tell me something?”</p><p>Kaidan turns his attention toward him.  “What’s that?”</p><p>Opening his eyes, Caleb focuses on his face.  “Would you have shot me?”</p><p>The second Spectre’s eyes narrow a bit, but there is no shock or surprise with the question.  “Would you have me?”</p><p>Caleb huffs softly, glances away.  <em>A good question.</em>  Kaidan knows the truth, but that doesn’t make it any easier to admit it.  “Kaidan – .”</p><p>“I’m not Finch, you know.”</p><p>Cold seeps through Caleb from head to toe and out through his limbs with the speed of a rabid varren, and just as dangerous.  Movement is impossible.  His lungs momentarily stop working.  “You … bastard,” he manages to hiss after a moment.  It isn’t anger so much as irritation that fuels it.</p><p>Kaidan laughs, unaffected.  That is a surprise.  “Am I wrong?”</p><p>Finally able to lift his head again, Caleb stares at him.  He’s openly <em>laughing</em> about this.  He remembers the incident three years ago, the follow up conversation on the SR1, the concerns that Kaidan had about him being a cold blooded murderer.  None of that is present now.  Instead, he finds … acceptance?  “Who are you and what have you done with the <em>real </em>Kaidan Alenko?”</p><p>The laughter morphs into a full-fledged grin.  “I wasn’t the one brought back by Cerberus, you know.”</p><p>Caleb tosses his hands in the air.  Whatever has happened, he is suddenly at the receiving end of some very peculiar, very un-Kaidan-like behavior.  He isn’t sure if he should be startled, concerned or glad.  “Jesus, Kaidan!  What is going on with you?”</p><p>The grin softens a bit.  “A near death experience brings things into perspective, don’t you think?”</p><p>He snorts softly, unable to stop himself.  “Oh, trust me, I know that all too well.”</p><p>“If it works for you,” Kaidan reasons, “then why not for me?”</p><p>The image of Kaidan lain out on in the medbay, injured and barely breathing returns and Caleb shudders almost violently. </p><p>Kaidan moves a step closer.  “You okay?”</p><p>It takes Caleb a moment to compose himself, but eventually he nods and shrugs.  “Just … wasn’t a good moment for me.  Seeing you like that.”  Still lined up against the wall, his head falls back and he stares up at the ceiling.  “I … guess I have an idea of what you went through … after Alchera, I mean.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>The awkwardness returns, and this time neither can find a way past it.  When Shepard straightens, rolls his shoulder back and heads to the door.  This time, Kaidan doesn’t try to stop him.  It’s probably for the best.  Pausing in the doorway, Caleb calls over, “Welcome back aboard, major.”</p><p>Their eyes meet across the room.  “Thanks, commander.  Looking … forward to it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Can't you see how much I care about you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>angst writing prompt:  Can't you see how much I care about you?</p><p>mshenko</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>Warning for PTSD/panic attack referencing Alchera</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“<em>Can’t you see how much I care about you?</em>” </p><p>The problem is, Caleb can’t.  He’s blind; thick, viscous darkness surrounding him that makes it impossible to see and move.  He hears Kaidan, senses him nearby, but he <em>cannot see him</em>.  Desperation fuels the flailing arms as he tries to reach, the churning legs as he tries to run towards the sound.  Every time he opens his mouth to shout, all that comes out is a gasping, choking rasp, barely audible. </p><p>Panic, unlike any he has ever felt before in his life, creeps up on him,  But, unlike Shannon, unlike Akuze, there is no way to block it, to force it away and focus on the issue at hand.  He’s <em>blind,</em> and blindness and panic do not make good companions …</p><p>“<em>Shepard?</em>”</p><p>Caleb’s breath catches painfully in his chest; Kaidan’s voice his anchor.  He blinks and slowly his vision returns.  The cold steel of the docking tubes.  The darkness of space broken by a spattering of stars and the battling quarian and geth ships.  The rasping gasps of his breath as he struggles for air …  “Yeah?” he manages, his voice croaking in the process.  <em>Kaidan</em>.  He blinks a few more times.</p><p>“<em>You alight?”</em></p><p>A quick glance at his interface assures him they are on a private channel.  It isn’t that he’s worried Tali will hear, but he doesn’t want to worry her anymore than necessary.  She has enough to think about right now.  He’s thankful, and not surprised, that Kaidan switched over of his own initiative.  Taking a few deep breaths, he forces himself to calm.  “I’m …”</p><p>“<em>This isn’t Alchera</em>,” Kaidan says softly, gently.</p><p>A shudder rolls through him.  “I – I know.”</p><p>“<em>If you need to, come back and we’ll find another way across …?”</em></p><p>Caleb’s spine stiffens and he gains a few inches in the process.  He takes a deep breath and shakes his head once.  “No … I’m good.”  He swallows hard, then takes one step forward.  “I’m <em>good</em>,” he repeats.</p><p>“<em>If you’re sure?”</em></p><p>Habit has him turning, looking back over his shoulder, but Kaidan isn’t there.  He and Tali are on the other side of the airlock, waiting on him.  “I’m good,” he repeats.  He takes another step forward.  Breathing comes easier now, his heart rate lowers.  “I’ve got this.”</p><p>“<em>I never doubted you for a minute.</em>”</p><p>He smiles.  No, Kaidan doesn’t doubt him, that much he’s aware of.  “Hey, <em>mo ghr</em><em>á</em>?”</p><p>“<em>Yeah?</em>”</p><p>“I can see it now,” Caleb says quietly, honestly.  “Thank you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Your Words are as Pointless as Your Actions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>angst prompt:  Your words are as pointless as your actions</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko   (pre mshenko)</p><p>Mass Effect 2 era, Horizon</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Kaidan – !”</p><p>“Don’t Kaidan me!  You’re with Cerberus!  What the hell am I supposed to think?”</p><p>The man standing across from Caleb, while he looks like Kaidan, isn’t.  Not really.  Kaidan, his friend for how many years now?  He knows how Caleb thinks, why he makes the choices he does.  He understands that the mission – <em>the fucking mission </em>– has to come first.</p><p>No, this isn’t the Kaidan Alenko he knows, the man he considers friend, <em>best </em>friend.  This is someone else entirely.  “Why is it so difficult to see?” he challenges.  It’s rare that his temper gets the better of him, but Caleb can feel it creeping up, grabbing hold.  If he isn’t careful, <em>all </em>of his companions will see him at his compete Irish best, or worst depending on the point of view.  With effort, he shoves it back, dams the stream to keep it from reaching its destination.  He must not, <em>cannot</em> let it through.  Swinging his arm in the direction of the now departed Collector ship, he adds, “The Collectors are kidnapping humans, taking thousands of them at a time!  Is it really so difficult to see that?”</p><p>Kaidan’s gaze narrows.  “What I see is a man in black and gold,” he bites out.  “I see a man whose words are as pointless as his actions, supporting a terrorist group that he once fought against.”</p><p>Coldness breaks past the dam, shooting through Caleb, filling him instantly.  On its heels follows the anger, dark and foreboding.  <em>Really?  This is how you want it to end?  Can I trust you that little anymore …?</em></p><p>He glances over at the krogan and salarian and jerks his head in the direction of the landing platform.  Mordin is the first to react, for once without a word spoken, and Grunt follows reluctantly.  There is no sign of Delan in the area; just as well, the man was a coward at best, and Caleb certainly has no time for him now.  To Kaidan, he turns one last time, lips pressed into a thin line, a grim expression crossing his features. </p><p>He holds his gaze for a long minute, tempted to make one last statement, one last plea for understanding, but it’s not in his nature.  The trust has been broken.  Without a word, he turns and walks away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. This Isn't Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>angst prompt - This isn't home</p>
<p>FShenko</p>
<p>Generic Colonist FemShep</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing at her private terminal in the CIC, Shepard stares at the latest message that flits across the screen.  It’s from Alliance Command, or Hackett; she’s too distracted by the contents of the message to care, and in the end it doesn’t really matter.  It’s a mission and she is nothing if not a dutiful soldier.  <em>It’s for the war effort.  Alliance personnel on the ground will assist.  </em>The climb up the steps to the Galaxy Map is like slogging through molasses.  When she gets there, she inputs the destination then turns away.</p>
<p>“Commander?”</p>
<p>Halfway to the lift, Shepard stops, waits.  Traynor has learned to question when necessary. </p>
<p>“Are you certain …?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Specialist,” she replies, her voice brooking no argument.  The lift arrives; she boards.  The conversation ends with the closing door.  Traynor’s, “Yes, ma’am,” gets cut off. </p>
<p>Shepard stares at the console.  She needs a place to think.  Someplace quiet.  This mission … this is going to be difficult and she needs to get into the proper headspace for it.  </p>
<p>~</p>
<p>The <em>Normandy</em> arrives in system fifteen hours later.  Shepard is ready and waiting on the shuttle when Kaidan, Liara, James, Tali and Garrus arrive.  “Let’s go, Cortez,” she tells the pilot, securing the hatch behind them.</p>
<p>Unlike usual ground missions, she doesn’t give them a brief on the descent.  In fact, this journey she says absolutely nothing.  She stands behind Cortez, staring out the virtual windows as he takes them down, but her mind races.  The colony is technically in Reaper controlled space, but as they slip below atmo, her gaze searches the skies, the landscape, the familiar-yet-not plan of the colony.  There is no indication of any reaper presence here.  Yet. </p>
<p>Turning away as Cortez lands, she looks over at her companions.  Her voice is tight, crisp and brooks no argument or discussion.  “Let’s go.  Intel says no reaper presence, but we all know how that goes.  We have five Alliance depots to check out.”  She nods at Garrus and Tali.  “Grab the first two transports you find and we’ll split into teams.  Cortez,” she calls back over her shoulder, “stay here.  If by some chance things turn hot, get out and let me know.”</p>
<p>“Understood, commander.”</p>
<p>She pounds the hatch’s release and leads the way out of the vehicle.  The others follow.</p>
<p>Almost from the moment her feet hit the ground, she knows something isn’t right.  Her hand reaches for the comfort of her <em>Hurricane</em>, pulling it free while she scans the vicinity.  “Base is to the east,” she tells the rest as she starts walking forward, toward the colony center.  “We’ll head there first, find the locations of the depots.”</p>
<p>Kaidan moves up next to her.  “Where are all the colonists?” he asks, putting to voice the one question everyone has.</p>
<p>Shepard checks that her weapon is loaded and ready to fire.  “I don’t know.”</p>
<p>Transport is limited to one truck that Garrus gets running for them with Tali’s assistance, and with that adjustment the plan moves forward.  Shepard drives, much to the dismay of the rest, and they head east.  The grumbling stops once they’re underway.  She knows the way; they are on alert. </p>
<p>Thirty minutes later, Shepard slows at the entrance.   She idles the vehicle, but there are no guards in sight to let them through.  Shepard leans out the window and calls up, “Kaidan?  Vega?  Anybody?”</p>
<p>“Not that I can see, Lola,” Vega calls back.  Kaidan shakes his head.</p>
<p>Damn.  Slowly, she backs up a few hundred feet.  “Everyone hold on.”  The words are barely out of her mouth before she guns the engines and speeds forward.  The gate breaks with the vehicle’s impact and by the time she slows, they are well on the base proper. </p>
<p>Like the colony proper, the base appears empty.  There is <em>no one </em>around when there should be a hive of activity.  Even with the current state of the war, there should be <em>some</em>thing.  Shepard pulls to a stop near the central admin building.  She leads the way inside, her hand at her hip again ready to pull the <em>Hurricane </em>in a heartbeat. </p>
<p>The building is empty.  From the lobby to the interior halls and offices, there is no sign that anyone is present.  Shepard sends Liara to check the terminal at the main desk; Kaidan, Garrus, and even Tali pick other terminals to check.  Shepard paces.  <em>Something isn’t right …</em></p>
<p>“Shepard, I’ve found something.”</p>
<p>Her breath catches in her chest as she hurries over to Liara.  Reading through the information presented, she tries to decipher what exactly it is.  It makes no sense.  “What …?”</p>
<p>Liara shakes her head and Kaidan steps in to join them.  He scans through the gibberish on the screen before looking over at Shepard.  “This … isn’t right.”</p>
<p>“No kidding?”  It comes out far too sharp to be ‘usual,’ but all of them sense there is something more at play here for her now. </p>
<p>Shepard stalks back around the desk and heads for the main door.  “Load up!” she orders.  “We’ll go find them ourselves.”  So much for assistance.</p>
<p>She slides behind the wheel again.  This time, Kaidan takes the passenger seat and everyone else climbs into the back.  They start off in silence.</p>
<p>Five miles out, Kaidan finally speaks.  “You going to tell me what’s going on?”  He keeps his voice low though there isn’t really a chance anyone will hear.  He knows she’s a private person.  He also knows their presence is more than just a mission to her. </p>
<p>Her jaw tightens, teeth grinding almost painfully.  “Something isn’t right,” she insists, “but I can’t explain it.  Something is just … off.”</p>
<p>He nods.  “Yeah, we all sense it too,” he assures her.  “What did Hackett tell you to expect?”</p>
<p>She shrugs.  “Alliance personnel should have been there.  Someone was to give us the access points.  They <em>know </em>we are coming …”</p>
<p>
  <em>They know …</em>
</p>
<p>The vehicle tops a rise.  Below them, the road winds down the side of the hills through the patchwork fields.  In the distance is a small clearing, fenced and closed off.  The road leads straight to it.  <em>Like a moth to a flame …</em></p>
<p>Shepard slams on the brakes halfway down the hill.  She hears shouts, complaints from the back, and even Kaidan’s hand slams on the dash.  “What is it?” he asks, looking over at her in concern.</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck!</em>  How could I have been so <em>stupid!</em>”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>She scans the landscape, hoping she’s wrong, but past history is too much to ignore.  “It’s a trap,” she replies as she shifts the gears and starts backing the truck to a point where she can turn around.</p>
<p>“How do you know?”</p>
<p>“No one is here – either they’ve been taken, or they’re lying in wait for us to hit those depots.”  Frustration eats at her as she maneuvers the vehicle. </p>
<p>Kaidan frowns.  “That’s a bit of a jump, isn’t it?  Weren’t you the one to tell me when they rebuilt the colony after the attack in 2170 they added panic rooms to every building?  Maybe they’re safe and secure down there?”</p>
<p>She slams her fingers to her comms connection.  “Cortez, fire up.  Mission is scrubbed and I want off this planet ASAP.”</p>
<p>“<em>Understood, commander.</em>”</p>
<p>“Shepard, we can’t just leave!” Kaidan argues.  “Don’t you want to help?  We need those supplies and … and this is your <em>home</em>!”</p>
<p>She guns the engines, panic driving her now.  <em>Something is wrong … something is wrong … something is very, very, VERY wrong …</em>  As she skirts the outer edges of the colony proper, the first hint of movement flicks out of Kaidan’s side of the vehicle. </p>
<p>“Shepard!” Vega shouts.  “Husks!”</p>
<p>“<em>FUCK!</em>” </p>
<p>The LZ is still a mile or two ahead of them.  “Open fire!” she shouts out the window.  Ahead of her, she notices more filtering out from the fields on the sides of the road.  She grabs her <em>Hurricane </em>and fires out her window as Kaidan starts to do the same on his side. </p>
<p>The LZ comes into sight mere moments later.  Shepard slides the truck to a stop some fifty yards from the shuttle.  Thankfully, there don’t appear to be any reapers attacking their exit route.  “Cortez!”</p>
<p>The hatch lifts and everyone scrambles inside.  Garrus and James provide covering fire until Shepard boards.  “Go! Go! Go!” she shouts to Cortez.  She triggers the hatch and it slams shut as she sinks to the floor; the <em>Hurricane</em> clatters next to her.  She buries her face in her hands for a long minute, lowering them when the weight of a hand slides around her shoulders.  Looking up, she meets Kaidan’s concerned gaze.  “This isn’t my home,” she rasps.  “This will never be my home …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. You Almost Died</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whump Prompt:  You almost died</p>
<p>FShenko</p>
<p>Theresia "Tessa" Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you sure you’re up for this?”</p>
<p>Kaidan stands at the window of the hospital room, eyes focused out toward the Presidium.  Truth be told, if he looked over at her right now, he might just lose it … and not in a good way.  “You don’t think I can do it?” he asks instead, responding with his own question.</p>
<p>There is a shift of fabric; in his mind’s eye, he can see her shifting her weight back and forth on her feet.  It’s old habit, something she does when she’s nervous or is struggling to find the words she wants.  “I didn’t say that,” she says after a while.  “Kaidan, you almost died.”</p>
<p>He <em>does </em>turn at that.  Their eyes meet.  “So did you,” he counters a bit more harshly than intended.  “Last I checked, that didn’t stop you.”</p>
<p>The corner of her left eye twitches, but it’s the only sign of discomfort.  If there is one thing about Commander Theresia Shepard, it’s that she can hide her true feelings all too well.  Especially from him.  She opens her mouth as if to speak, closes it, then pulls her lower lip between her teeth.  He can see the battle she wages; clear as day in brilliant green eyes.  He also sees when she hits her <em>aw, fuck it!</em> moment.  “Cerberus didn’t put you back together.”</p>
<p>And the white elephant in the room arrives. </p>
<p>Kaidan draws in a deep breath through his nose only, a method to help calm him he’s used since BAaT, but this time, it does little to slow the build of anger.  Eyes narrowing, defiance flaring in hers; briefly, he wonders what it would be like to lose his cool in front of her.  But he doesn’t.  He is Kaidan Alenko, master of staying in control.</p>
<p>That doesn’t keep the irritation out of his tone, however.  “No, they didn’t.”</p>
<p>Tessa isn’t afraid of much, or never has been in the time he’s known her, at least.  But times have changed.  Allegiances bounced back and forth.  Anderson still seemed to trust her, Hackett too.  But when it comes right down to it, he doesn’t know her anymore.  Not really.</p>
<p>Oh, he watched her battle <em>against</em> her former employers on Mars, and from all appearances, it seemed honest enough.  But now?  Doubting his ability?  Doubting <em>him</em>?</p>
<p>Surprisingly, she is the first to back away this time.  Breaking eye contact, her head drops.  She fidgets with the zipper on her N7 hoodie.  “I … I should go,” she whispers roughly.</p>
<p>He barely hears her.  “Maybe you should,” he agrees, but by then she is halfway out the door.</p>
<p>She looks back at him, their eyes meet once more, and his breath catches in his chest.  She is Commander Shepard.  Savior of the Citadel.  Hero of Elysium.  First Human Spectre.  If the press has it right, bullets bounce off her back at her enemies while she saves the innocents of the galaxy.</p>
<p>It is easy to forget she is a person beneath all of that.  One human bearing the burden of an entire galaxy.  The woman who saved his sorry ass on Mars because of something they once had together. </p>
<p>It was a dick move, he knows it, a product of the first tendrils of a migraine caused by the stress and nerves associated with such a weighty decision.  He reaches a hand in her direction, opens his mouth to apologize; the door closes, cutting her off from view.  By the time he gets there and it opens again, she is gone… </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. You Don't Remember?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whump prompt:  You Don't Remember?</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>post-War (ME3) ... argument</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing at the kitchen sink, Caleb braces his hands against the counter and stares out the window.  He isn’t really paying attention to the scenery, but it’s a sight easier to accomplish than having to face down the love of his life when he is this angry.</p>
<p>“I don’t remember.”</p>
<p>There is a moment in which all he can hear is the shuffle of shoes, the faint brush of fabric.  He can picture Kaidan standing there, shifting from foot to foot trying to make sense of that.  “What do you mean, you don’t remember?”</p>
<p>“<em>Ní cuimhin liom</em>,” he says.  “Either way I say it, you understand me, I know you do.”  His head drops, chin resting against his chest.  Irritation stirs to life in him.  It’s been a long time, and certainly never aimed directly at Kaidan.  At least, not since they’ve been together.  “Just … let it go, Kaidan!”  There is a plea in his voice, one he hopes Kaidan will listen to …</p>
<p>But his husband is as stubborn as any Irishman, and while that is normally something Caleb admires, today is not that day.  “How am I supposed to let it go?” he demands.  His heels hit the kitchen tile loudly which at least makes it easy to track his direction without looking at him.  Caleb pointedly keeps his eyes facing the window, his lower lip tight between his teeth as Kaidan joins him on the left.  “You are as good as telling me –.”</p>
<p>Pure white, hot anger sings through Caleb and he pounds his fist on the frame of the sink.  There isn’t much inside at the moment, but the two mugs, plates and forks rattle and clatter as if an earthquake hits.  “Let. It. Go!” he shouts, turning finally to face him. </p>
<p>He hasn’t ever seen Kaidan afraid – no, that isn’t true; he hasn’t ever seen Kaidan afraid of <em>him</em>.  Not really.  Afraid <em>for </em>him, yes, but not <em>of </em>him.  But the short breath that catches in his chest, the way his whiskey-colored eyes widen a fraction more than usual as he pulls back a step.  <em>Away.</em></p>
<p>Heart breaking, he turns and leaves the room without another word ...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Losing that much blood is not okay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>whump prompt - losing that much blood is not okay</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko  (pre mShekno), Liara T'Soni</p>
<p>ME1 era, Bring Down the Sky mission</p>
<p>tw: mention of blood and injuryt</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His labored breaths echo weirdly through the small space, like raspy ghosts from a child’s nightmare. </p>
<p><em>Or one filled with strange, destructive machines bent on destruction of the galaxy.</em> </p>
<p>“Commander?”</p>
<p>He swallows past an unexpected tightness, his slightly unfocused gaze tilting upward to meet Alenko’s.  Twice he blinks to clear the fuzziness that slowly creeps along the edge of his vision  when he speaks, it comes out choked and rough.  “Aye …?”</p>
<p>Alenko mutters something – a curse, maybe? – but Shepard doesn’t hear it clearly.  Next thing he knows, the man is pushing him down … down … down …  He lands hard on something that no longer gives; the drop isn’t too bad, but the stop unexpected and he starts leaning drastically to one side.  He has to search deep inside to find a way to care, though. </p>
<p>Alenko catches him, rights him.  “Commander!”</p>
<p>There is a bark of command in the voice, a hint of authority.  Shepard stiffens; he can’t ignore it, years of training won’t allow it.  “Mmm?”  He runs his tongue over dry lips.  <em>Where are we again?</em></p>
<p>“Dammit!”  Alenko’s hands move quickly – faster than Caleb has ever seen them – but what is he doing?  “Williams?  Liara?  I need one of you!”</p>
<p>The fuzziness creeps closer; he blinks again. </p>
<p>Alenko moves directly in front of him.  One hand catches Caleb’s chin, forces him to look at him directly.  “Sir, look at me – at <em>me</em>!”</p>
<p>Caleb swallows again.  He starts to nod, but his head doesn’t move properly and lands against his chest.  Alenko lifts it again.  A second set of hands braces his shoulders, pulls gently backwards, and for just a moment, he sees relief in Alenko’s brown eyes.  His head lolls backward until it cannot stop.  Trailing upward his gaze meets a concerned yet friendly blue face.  “L-liara …?”</p>
<p>Her smile is warm, reassuring.  “Hold on, commander,” she says calmly.  “The lieutenant will take care of you.”</p>
<p><em>Hold on</em>?  Something tugs at his left arm.  A sharp slice of pain flares briefly, then fades to a dull ache.  His gaze drops to see his armored sleeve torn off and tossed aside.  He frowns, attempting to understand what he is looking at, but it doesn’t make sense.  Alenko wraps something around his arm, ties it … into a knot?  Discomfort accompanies it, but why?  “LT, what …?”</p>
<p>Kaidan doesn’t spare him a glance.  He is focused, lips pressed into a thin, grim line.  “Losing that much blood is not okay,” he mutters. </p>
<p>It’s the only hint Caleb gets.  <em>Blood … injury …  </em>A memory winds its way back to his semi-lucid state.  <em>The batarian … the rocket launcher … impact with a set of shelves that turns it into flying shrapnel … the grunt of pain torn from his lips as it ripped through armor and shields, finding purchase in the meaty part of his upper arm …</em>  He swallows again, unconsciousness looming ever closer. </p>
<p>Memories of Akuze and what he presumes was his evacuation return like an old movie, shifting frame by frame by frame …</p>
<p>One of Alenko’s hands grabs his chin again; it holds firmly, turns his face toward his own.  “Commander!”</p>
<p>Shepard grunts, the only sound he is capable of in that moment.</p>
<p>“Stay with me, sir.  I’ve got this.”</p>
<p>A smile, lazy and slow, curves.  “Like … Akuze … I know…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Your lies only get yourself or others hurt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>whump prompt = your lies only get yourself or others hurt</p>
<p>f!Shenko</p>
<p>Tessa Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Your lies only get yourself or others hurt, you know that, right?”</p>
<p>Tessa stares at him in utter disbelief; her arm never wavers, though.  Her training is too good for that.  “You … think I’m lying?”  The world around them – the chaos caused by Cerberus, the Council, even James and Garrus – fades into the background, all blurred edges and muted noise.  She focuses on his face, hoping against hope he will see past the actual lies, whatever hatred and misinformation Udina has used to capture his soul.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you?” he counters.  “It’s hard to ignore the evidence, Tessa.”</p>
<p>“What evidence?” she demands, anger unexpectedly surging upward and out.  “What. Evidence?  If you have any at all, Kaidan, tell me now!”  She waits a heartbeat.  A second one.  A third.  “You can’t, can you?  That’s because <em>you have none</em>!”</p>
<p>He uses his pistol to wave her to the side; Tessa doesn’t budge.  “Shepard, you know how this looks …”</p>
<p>“If I move, Cerberus wins,” she says quietly, just to him.  “Is that a risk you are willing to take?”</p>
<p>His eyes dart to something behind her; she remains focused on him.  James and Garrus can take care of themselves for now, she has bigger concerns.  Like keeping the Council <em>alive</em>.  His jaw clenches, but his hesitation is obvious.  She doesn’t know if it’s concern for her, for her companions, or if he is finally, <em>truly</em> listening to her, but she’ll take it.  <em>Come on, Kaidan, you </em>know <em>me!</em>  Hope rises, takes hold, and a smile starts to curl at her lips …</p>
<p>… until a movement in her peripheral vision – quick, drastic, as if meant to distract – leaves her reacting on instinct.  Her hand tightens around the pistol grip as her finger pulls the trigger … and her gasp echoes loudly across the platform.  “Kaidan …!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. You’re not okay. They hurt you and I will make them pay. That I promise you.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>whump prompt = “You’re not okay. They hurt you and I will make them pay. That I promise you.”</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>Part of one of their upcoming post-War fics</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s almost like watching the world pass from outside of himself; over his shoulder, from up above.  Kaidan sits next to him, holding onto his hand as if he will never, ever let go, while Caleb lies there, still and unmoving.  He is there, yet not all at once.  The machines beep constant updates to the medical staff, but from his position, it’s muted, nearly imperceptible.  Confusion is natural; though he knows not how he got here or why, but he recognize his general surroundings enough.  He’s been in and out of them enough over the years to recognize it.  <em>A hospital</em>. </p><p>He floats, drifting lazily.  A nagging hum of a sound, persistent yet still distant, calls to him.  To this point, he has been able to ignore it.  But the ties to the present are waning, and the call is getting louder.</p><p>He looks back over his shoulder, narrows his gaze on something still too far away to see, when he feels a shift. </p><p>“<em>You’re not okay.  They hurt you, and I will make them pay.  That much I promise, </em>a chéadsearc,**” Kaidan whispers. </p><p>His voice pulls Caleb’s attention back to the present, for just a moment, and he smiles a blend of surprise, bemusement and adoration filling him.  The Irish expression isn’t one he has ever used around his husband, which means he is still learning the language on his own, in secret.  <em>Even after all these years you find new ways to surprise me, </em>mo grhá<em> …</em></p><p>The hum grows louder in Caleb’s mind, a concerted effort to drown out the hold of Kaidan’s voice.  A lure, he realizes, in motion, willing him closer. </p><p>But he fights it still, wanting to reach out, to touch Kaidan’s cheek with his hand just once more time, or kiss his lips and lose himself in his taste for all eternity.  They haven’t had enough time, not yet, never.</p><p>Darkness closes in on him in an unexpected rush; panic arises with a familiarity he isn’t prepared for.  <em>No!  I can’t – not yet!  </em></p><p>Kaidan’s head snaps up, the movement sharp and clear, almost as if he <em>hears </em>Caleb’s shout.  Hope stirs inside him, even as the darkness envelops him limb by limb and drags him further away.  The last thing he sees before it fades completely is the sea of unfamiliar faces rushing into his room, some hovering over him, others forcefully blocking Kaidan away from the bed despite his refusal to move … </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>**A chéadsearc = “my one and only”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Everything hurts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  Everything hurts</p><p>f!Shenko</p><p>Tessa Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Running across the platform, Tessa positions herself between Councilors Tevos, Sparatus and Udina.  She still has her weapon out, trained on the man lying prone at her feet, and she moves with caution, kicking the pistol a hundred feet towards the burning shuttle.  Udina doesn’t even flinch; the best decision he’s made in his sorry life, as far as she’s concerned.  “Get them back!” she shouts, jerking her head toward the Councilors. </p><p>She takes a knee, reaches out her hand, and feels for a pulse at his neck … nothing.  Relief washes through her.</p><p>Until a hand settles at her shoulder, firm yet non-judgmental.  Unfortunately, it lands right over the spot where Udina’s shot sliced through her armor.  Despite her best efforts, she can’t hold back a cry of pain.</p><p>“Tess?”  Kaidan drops down next to her, his hands already tearing away the armor as he searches for the wound.  She doesn't scream, ever.  “Shit!”</p><p>Through the white burning heat, she hears his hiss.  His <em>this is fucking serious! but I’m not going to tell you it is! </em>hiss.  “K-Kaidan?”</p><p>“Hang on, I’ve got this.”</p><p>He’s still fighting against the armor when James drops to her other side.  He helps hold her still; Kaidan curses rather inventively beneath his breath.  Tessa groans.  “Everything hurts,” she manages. </p><p>“I know,” he assures her.  “Give me just a second and I can –.”</p><p>Darkness starts stalking her, and she loses balance when vertigo hits.  She has no sense of direction as she starts to fall. </p><p>Strong arms wrap around her.  He covers her ear with one hand while ordering Vega to finish removing the armor that’s in his way.  “Stay with me, Tess,” he breathes.  “Stay with me.”</p><p>“Hurt …”</p><p>“I know.  I’ll take care of that just as soon as I can.”</p><p>“C-cold …”</p><p>She shakes as the armor finally pulls free, at which point her sense of balance shifts yet again.  Next she knows, she is lying on her back, staring up at his concerned face.  He flashes her a quick smile.  “Progress, I promise.”</p><p>She tries to lift her good hand but it doesn’t want to move.  The sound of renting fabric fills her ears a second later.  She gets a good idea of just how bad it is when Kaidan hisses, “Oh, shit!”  She laughs – a strange reaction, but it feels right.  “That … bad, huh?”</p><p>Someone else approaches, but she can’t see who it is.  Steps.  Hushed whispers.  A lot of movement.  A bird flies overhead soaring gently on the wind, and as she trails it with her gaze, she is reminded of Thane … wonders how he is right now.  Which goddess is it he always seems to pray to?  “Kalahira …”</p><p>“Oh, no you don’t, Lola!” James shouts, grasping her good hand in his and squeezing.  “You don’t get to go out like this!”</p><p>Weighted eyelids start to droop, but she manages a smile.  “Across the sea …,” she whispers, remembering his description from their discussion the previous year.  It sounds so peaceful …</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0048"><h2>48. I think you're beautiful</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>100 ways to say I love you prompt:  I think you're beautiful</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Michael Shepard and Kaidan Alenko</p><p>OTP: Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Beautiful view.”</p><p>Michael looks to his left and smiles.  Standing atop one of the highest peaks in the Rockies, their destination below them to the east, it’s a difficult observation to argue.  Only thirty or so miles to go, give or take.  It’ll take a couple of days careful descent down the mountain, but they’ll make it.  These days, their journey is measured by destinations; points on a map.  From A to B with who knew how many diversions or alterations along the way.  Breaking the cross country trek down like this is more tolerable, mentally and physically.  Their current track ends at Point D, Colorado Springs. </p><p>On the other hand, he is of a differing opinion.  “I don’t know,” he replies, a smirk pulling at his lips.  Just beyond Kaidan, Vega and Kandra step up to one another.  Michael sighs, it appears this evening will result in yet another heated discussion.  It takes only moments before the senior Vega and senior Alenko move over to intervene.  Michael wonders just how long it will be before his attention to the situation is required. </p><p>In the meantime, however, …  “I can think of a better one.”</p><p>Kaidan glances over at him, brow slightly furrowed.  “Yeah?”</p><p>Grinning, he nods … until Emily steps over and joins the discussion.  Shit.  He doesn’t have much time.  “Yeah.”  Leaning in towards Kaidan, he lowers his voice and adds, “I seem to recall this preternaturally talented biotic lieutenant –.”</p><p>Kaidan scowls, dropping his gaze as his cheeks flame.  “Hardly the same thing,” he mutters.</p><p>Michael’s grin returns to a smile.  He ducks his head slightly, just to catch Kaidan’s line of sight enough to get him to look back.  When he does, Michael continues.  “I think you’re beautiful.  When your biotics flare up?  Surround yourself like that?  It’s one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, battlefield or bedroom.”</p><p>Either Kaidan doesn’t hear the squabble behind him or he just doesn’t care.  But when their eyes meet again, there is a hint of self-confidence in place that has been missing until now.  Michael waits, expecting the major to call him on bullshit or something, but a moment passes, then another, and he doesn’t look away.  “You really mean that?”</p><p>Michael nods.  “On my honor.”</p><p>“What honor?” Kaidan snorts softly. </p><p>Michael’s breath catches and his eyes widen … just as Kaidan’s lips twitch and he realizes it’s a jest.  Grin returning, whole heartedly, Shepard just laughs.  An honest to goodness deep belly laugh.  Kaidan joins in, and for a long minute, the two just stand beside one another, enjoying the moment.</p><p>Once he is able to breathe again, Michael sighs heavily.  “Got me there, didn’t you?”</p><p>Kaidan shrugs and turns.  They both end up leaning against the other’s shoulder watching as events unfold.  Kaidan tilts his head until he can lightly rest it against Michael’s.  The battle before them is heating up.  It’s only a matter of deciding who gets to break it up.  “You do realize it’s your turn, right?”</p><p>“<em>My</em> turn?”  Slanting his gaze to meet Kaidan’s, he protests, “She is <em>your </em>sister.”</p><p>Voices rise again and their petite reporter companion slides between the two most vocal combatants.  With a sigh, Kaidan straightens.  “Fight you for it?”</p><p>A soft huff of laughter escapes Michael’s lips as he lifts his hands.  “Hardly fair, but I’m game.”</p><p>“On three,” Kaidan states, bringing his own hands up.  “One … two … three …” </p><p>In the middle of the Rocky Mountains, over fourteen thousand feet above sea level, the two Alliance officers each pound one fist into the flat of their other twice in a row before forming the shape they have chosen to combat with on the third hit …</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Promise Me You'll Stop Getting Hurt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>whump prompt:  Promise me you'll stop getting hurt</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Kristofer Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, special (and unexpected on my end of things) appearance by Garrus</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Promise me,” Kaidan mutters beneath his breath as he focuses on dressing the wound on Kristofer’s upper arm, “just promise me you’ll stop getting hurt.”  He lifts his gaze until their eyes meet.  “Please?”</p><p>A soft, slightly dopey smile twists across Shepard’s lips and he leans forward just enough that their foreheads meet.  “You know I can’t promise that,” he replies.  He tilts his head just a bit, enough he can press a quick kiss to Kaidan’s lips.  Though brief, it leaves his own tingling.  Certainly feels better than the waves of fiery pain when the bullet penetrated his armor and shields. </p><p>Kaidan sighs; heavy, resigned, frustrated.  “Look, I …  I can’t go through what I did last time.  If I lose you again …”</p><p>Kris reaches up with his good hand, curls it around the back of Kaidan’s head and this time switches angles so the contact of their lips is more secure.  This time when he retreats, the soft stutter of Kaidan’s breath rings in his ears and he smiles.  “You won’t.  That much, I can promise.  I’m here, I intend to <em>be </em>here.  Always.”</p><p>Surprisingly, his words result in Kaidan’s eyes closing tightly and a violent shudder racing through him.  For a moment, Kris is concerned, but they open again, he cannot miss just how much pain Kaidan still carries from before.  Kris loops his arm around Kaidan’s shoulders and pulls him close enough to hug.  Still mindful of his injury, he secures both of his arms around him.  “Kaidan – .”</p><p>But Kaidan is quick.  He silences Kris with two fingers across his lips.  “Don’t,” he begs.  “I just …  We’re at war, I get that.  The reapers have to be defeated, so does Cerberus – I get that, too.  I just … is it wrong that I want some sort of …?”</p><p>Hopping off the packing crate that served as an examination table post battle and still holding onto him, Shepard insists quietly, “Not wrong at all.  It’s what I want, too.”  He moves the injured arm, bites back the pain, and offers a shaky smile.  “We’ll find a way through, together.  Okay?  This kind of pain,” he lifts his arm, “I can live with.  Living without you in my life?  Not so much.”</p><p>Kaidan frowns.  “Wait, how is this suddenly about you?”</p><p>Kris grins, leans over and kisses him one last time; lightly, teasingly, playfully.  “Pulled you out of the downward spiral you were headed toward, didn’t I?”</p><p>The confusion doesn’t fade.  If anything, Kaidan’s brow furrows deeper. </p><p>Releasing him, Shepard reaches for his pistol.  “Come on, we’ve got a job to do.  Garrus is probably already on the far side of the warehouse by now.”</p><p>“<em>Actually, I’m just around the corner,</em>” the turian pipes up.  “<em>Didn’t want to interrupt an … intimate moment.</em>”</p><p>Kris cackles softly as Kaidan’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of red.  “Well, he’s got us there, doesn’t he?” </p><p>The turian is quick to agree.  “<em>Busted.</em>”</p><p>Kaidan pinches the bridge of his nose.  “You two are going to be the death of me, I swear.”</p><p>Kris grins as he shoulder bumps Kaidan … then hisses and swears softly.  “Shit!”</p><p>For once, Kaidan actually smiles, and there is even a hint of a laugh.  “Maybe,” he suggests as he takes his weapon in hand, “next time you should duck?  My request isn’t that unreasonable, you know.”</p><p>Kris gently pats at his bandaged arm.  “No,” he agrees after a moment, “not that unreasonable at all.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. What the hell did they do to you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>whump prompt:  what the hell did they do to you?</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP Brother's In Arms</p>
<p>Set early in Citadel DLC</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>(set very early in the Citadel DLC)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They arrive back at the apartment sometime later without further incident.  Wrex leads the way inside, barreling through anyone stupid enough to get in his way or unfortunate enough to look like a merc.  Caleb appreciates the buffer zone; he isn’t certain exactly what happened back at the sushi place, but the pain in his ribs is throbbing more than ever, and if the look on Kaidan’s face means anything, he isn’t looking forward to the medical exam that is sure to follow.</p>
<p>No sooner do they get inside than Kaidan is at his side.  “Where’s your room?”</p>
<p>Caleb nods toward the stairs on the far side and they head that direction.  He has to take it slow, each step individually, and he keeps his right arm wrapped around his middle.  There’s definitely something not right in there and each step shoots streaks of pain through his entire body.  His breath catches a couple of times in the process, but eventually they make it to the top.  He pauses, momentarily; a quick look over the balcony assuring him that Wrex, Liara and the others are updating Brooks.  With a wince, he turns back to follow after Kaidan.</p>
<p>“What the hell did they do to you?” Kaidan demands as they enter the room.  He steps over to assist Shepard with his jacket.  The t-shirt requires a bit more care in removal.</p>
<p>“Ah!”  Caleb bites his lip to keep from shouting at the pain, but an exclamation still escapes.  Kaidan has his medical scanner up in an instant.  The look on his face isn’t encouraging.  “C’mon,” Caleb rasps, his face a contorted twist of pain and wry humor, “just slap some omni-gel on it and call it done.  Right?”</p>
<p>Kaidan glares at him out of the corner of his eye, lips pressed into a thin line.  “That went the way of the dodo ages ago,” he replies.  He runs a second scan.  “Must’ve slipped your mind.”</p>
<p>There is irritation there, a dig, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, but Caleb is beyond caring at this point.  They are talking, and that’s progress.  That’s what matters.  “Yeah, caught me napping, I guess.” </p>
<p>Satisfied with the results of the scans, Kaidan ducks into the bathroom and returns a moment later with a medical kit.  “Lift your arm up.”</p>
<p>Slowly, Caleb does as he instructs.  With care, Kaidan feels around his ribcage, poking, prodding, pressing.  After a third hiss of pain, Caleb asks, “I though you medical types were supposed to be angels of mercy or something –!”  He’s cut off by a fourth hiss, and an unexpected soft pop in his ribcage.  “<em>Mallacht mo chait ort!</em>  What the hell, Kaidan!”</p>
<p>“You don’t have a cat,” Kaidan responds mildly as he starts to wrap bandages around Caleb’s midsection.  “The damage isn’t as bad as it might feel,” he continues as he works, “but this will help stabilize it.”  He glances up at Caleb.  “If you can stand being bound up for a few days.”</p>
<p>Caleb sniffs and grits his teeth.  “A few days for you, maybe.”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s hands hesitate a fraction of a second before continuing, but Caleb notices.  “Yeah.”</p>
<p>A booming laugh from the front of the apartment catches Caleb’s attention and he darts a quick look back over his shoulder.  The sooner they finish here, the better, he decides.  “How long do you think?” he asks, turning his attention back to Kaidan.  “Honestly?  Whatever’s going on here,” he jerks the elbow over his head in the direction of the others, “I’m not sure it can wait.”</p>
<p>Kaidan finishes and secures the bandages before grabbing Caleb’s t-shirt and helping him back into it.  “From what you’ve said and what Dr. Chakwas told me about it, I’d guess maybe a day?  You’ve got a couple of cracked ribs, most likely from the fall itself.”</p>
<p>Caleb laughs but it quickly evolves into a groan and he doubles over.  Kaidan steps in close enough to catch his shoulder with his own.  “Don’t,” Caleb pleads, “don’t make me laugh.”</p>
<p>This close, it’s hard to miss the way Kaidan’s lips twitch.  “Wasn’t my intention,” he insists.  “Can I help it if your sense of humor is warped?”</p>
<p>Fighting through the pain, Caleb straightens.  He clasps a hand on Kaidan’s shoulder, the only sign of a thank you he can offer just now, and squeezes.  “I’ll leave the warping to biotics like you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0051"><h2>51. Where does all the blood come from?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>whump prompt = where does all the blood come from?</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, some James Vega</p>
<p>OTP Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chaos.  Confusion.  Might as well be his middle name.  From the day he was born, Michael Shepard has known nothing but. </p>
<p>Zipping across The Pit, taking out one of the most notorious <em>Reds </em>commander the gang has ever known?  If that isn’t the epitome of <em>chaos</em> these days, especially with the Reapers and Cerberus breathing down his neck, he doesn’t know what is.</p>
<p>Once Anton is down, Michael spins around, eyes constantly moving, searching for his next target.  After a heartbeat or two he realizes there are none left.  All are down, secured; in Anton’s case, dead.  <em>Good riddance</em>. </p>
<p>Vega starts checking the bodies on the far side of the room.  Michael’s gaze drops to Anton lying motionless at his feet.  Blood leaks from the corner of his lips, but it’s the only sign of any physical damage.  He turns to walk away, but then stops.  Turning back, he takes a knee and runs his hands over the man’s body, checks his pockets.  The <em>Reds </em>are up to something – <em>were </em>up to something – something that runs far deeper than his connection to the bastard, and he wants to know what it is.  All his check results in is an OSD in one pocket and a couple of secured datapads in another.  These he shoves in his own pocket to deal with later.  Now, he walks and pushes his past away for the time being.</p>
<p>Across the room, Kaidan lies still and motionless.  Michael runs over and drops to his knees about five feet from him, sliding the rest of the way.  His hands move quickly, checking for signs of life.  Outwardly, he’s calm, focused, every inch the professional soldier; inwardly he cannot stifle the panic.  <em>C’mon, Kaidan, work with me here!  Don’t do this to me!</em> </p>
<p>His fingers land on his neck, as gently as he can, and press close … and find warmth and the soft somewhat slow thread of a heartbeat that pulses back.  Relief washes through him.  “Kaidan!” he hisses, assured he still lives, but now desperate for more.  His hand slides up to pat at his cheek while the other cautiously repositions behind his neck.  “C’mon, Kaidan, need a bit of help here!”  He runs his hands down, over Kaidan’s arms and chest, past his hips and down to his feet.  He finds no obvious sign of broken bones, which is a greater relief to him than anything.  “Kaidan!”</p>
<p>A soft groan slips past Kaidan’s lips and it is the sweetest sound Michael has heard from him in a very long time.  Quick tears form in his eyes as his hands return to Kaidan’s face.  Again, he pats gently.  Behind him, Vega grunts and he hears something clatter to the ground.  “Major, open your eyes for me,” he orders.  He reaches for one of Kaidan’s hands and holds it while rubbing the other up and down the forearm, as if warming him.  “That’s an order, mister!”</p>
<p>Lids half-flutter, and for just a moment, Michael’s breath catches, but they don’t fully open.  Kaidan does, however, convulse; bending slightly at the waist, a much louder, pain-filled groan escaping this time.  Michael holds him, guides him, wishes there was more he could do for him.  Leaning over he breathes near his ear, “C’mon, Kaidan, work with me here!” </p>
<p>Kaidan’s eyes flutter again and finally open into thin slits.  It’s enough.  “Hey,” Michael greets him, soft yet worried smile curving at his lips. </p>
<p>Kaidan winces and tries to pull away but only manages to roll his head partway to one side.  “Wh – what took you so long?” he rasps.</p>
<p>“Missed the train,” he quips.  “Come on, let’s sit you up.  Gently.”  Michael eases himself behind him to offer physical support, keeping his arms around Kaidan in support the entire time. </p>
<p>Kaidan’s head settles at his shoulder.  He blinks a few times, eyes opening further, and then frowns.  “Where …?”</p>
<p>“Still <em>Reds </em>territory,” Michael explains.  “We need to get out of her ASAP, but we’ve got to get you into stable condition first.”  He glances over at Vega.  “Got the kit?”</p>
<p>Vega tosses over the bundle he’s been carrying throughout this journey.  Michael pulls it over in front of Kaidan so he can use both hands as well as have Kaidan guide him.  “It’s not much, but your students said it would have what you need.”</p>
<p>Kaidan huff softly and grimaces, eyes lifting to look up at him.  “You’re biotic too.”  <em>You should know</em>. </p>
<p>“Yeah, well … when you’re a biotic pinball, you have different needs,” he counters.  Some things will always be basic, others he just ignores.  Why waste medigel when he’ll heal up faster because of what Cerberus did to him?  “Here – it’s warm, probably not the best tasting right now, but some juice to jumpstart you.  Yeah?”  He shoves a straw into the drink container and holds it to Kaidan’s lips.  Kaidan takes half a sip, makes a face and starts to turn away, but Michael is prepared.  “Nope, not gonna get away with that.”</p>
<p>“Why … not?”  Kaidan manages a couple of swallows.  “You always … do.”</p>
<p>Michael chuckles.  If Kaidan is protesting, arguing, he’ll mend.  He has to think of it that way, otherwise he’ll lose his mind.  “I need my medic back,” he insists.  “No one’s as good as you.”  He shifts a little bit, adjusts Kaidan into a slightly more upright position and tries to ignore his groaned response.  “Christ, you had me afraid there for a minute, major.”</p>
<p>Kaidan releases the straw, head lolling toward Michael’s chest … and frowns.  “What the …?”  This time, he’s the one who tries to shift.  Michael assists him as best he can.  “What the hell happened to you?”  He drags a hand to his chest and lies it flat over the dark red stained center.  “Where does – did – all the… blood come from?”</p>
<p>Michael glances down at the front of his shirt.  In all honesty, he hasn’t noticed.  “Not mine, I swear,” he replies.  When Kaidan doesn’t stop, he grasps his hand, squeezes gently, then pulls the hem up so the skin beneath is exposed.  There are some smears of red that bled through the material, but no sign of injury or worse.  “See?  Not mine.  Trust me, the owner has no more use for it.”</p>
<p>Their eyes meet and he sees Kaidan flinch.  “Anton?”</p>
<p>Michael nods.  “He won’t be a problem anymore.  Promise.  Now, how’re you feeling?  Ready to stand yet?”  He knows that one container of juice won’t have helped much, but they need to get moving.  “Vega?”</p>
<p>“Ready when you are, Loco.”  He joins them in the middle of the room and helps Michael assist Kaidan to his feet.  “Hey, there, major.”</p>
<p>“Vega.”  Kaidan groans again and leans heavily against the both of them.  No way he’ll be walking.  “Got … a plan for this?”</p>
<p>“You bet,” Michael replies, mentally shifting to plan B.  He bends over slightly and repositions himself.  Vega assists and after a moment, Kaidan lies across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.  “Think you can hold still long enough?”</p>
<p>“I’ll just … enjoy the view …”</p>
<p>Vega’s knowing chuckle is all the indicator Michael needs.  Kaidan making sassy, flirty comments, is all the proof he needs that he’s going to be alright …</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Try Some</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>100 Ways to Say I Love You  prompts:  Try Some</p>
<p>MShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Brother's In Arms</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Set post-Virmire in ME1:  technically, this falls in the time before they are involved romantically, but still …)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>After dismissing the others, Caleb can’t exit the comms room fast enough.  Between the disastrous outcome of the mission and the lack of sensitivity on the Council’s part, he is absolutely <em>livid</em>.  It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep from cursing up a blue streak and losing his temper – in Irish, just to be safe, but he still can’t count out a well-placed assistant on any of their staffs – but he manages, barely.  Logically, he knows returning to the Citadel is the right call, especially if he wants to have backup going after Saren, but it does very little in the way of calming him.  And after Virmire, he needs calming.</p>
<p>Heading through the CIC, he descends to the crew deck, but once he reaches the base of the steps, he hesitates.  He really should head to his own cabin; his gear needs attention, and God knows he could do with a rest after events on Virmire, but his thoughts are elsewhere for the very same reason, so he doesn’t.  Instead, he calls the lift and takes it down to the cargo bay where he spends the next few hours cleaning out Williams’ locker and her work station, packing her personal belongings away in a shipping crate that he carefully secures and labels.  He still has a letter to write, one he isn’t looking forward to but has far too much experience with.  He’ll add it later, securing it to the crate with her things.  When they arrive at the Citadel, he plans to personally see it gets onto an Alliance transport back to her family.  Ashley deserved a hell of a lot more in life than she got; he’s going to do what he can to see that she gets it now, even if it’s the last thing he does.</p>
<p>A quick glance at his chronometer when he’s done explains why he finds himself alone in the cargo bay; it’s 01h16.  Only third watch is up this late, all sensible crew members are asleep in their beds or pods.  With that in mind, he finally gives in and heads to his cabin.</p>
<p>He doesn’t get more than a half step inside the room before he hesitates.  He sees her face in his mind’s eye, hears her voice insist he protect Alenko and the bomb instead of coming for her.  The weeks and months of chasing Saren suddenly come to a drastic, unexpected halt as a result; a young life cut short far too soon.  One hand rises almost of its own accord to rub over his left breast, attempting to ease the ache there.  It doesn’t do any good, of course, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. </p>
<p>“<em>Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat,”</em> he mutters then spins on his heel needing to be any place but here …</p>
<p>… and runs straight into Kaidan.  Throwing his hands out is automatic, and he catches the lieutenant before either of them can fall.  “Sorry.”</p>
<p>“My fault,” Kaidan replies, stepping back out of his way. </p>
<p>A quick assessment is all Caleb needs to see something isn’t right with him, and he steps to the side, gesturing him into the room.  “Come on in,” he invites, putting as much warmth into the words as he can just now.  Whether he’s successful at that or not, he doesn’t know, but Kaidan is agreeable and moves into the room.  “Did you need something?”  He doesn’t wait for his answer, but walks on over to one of his storage lockers and retrieves a dark bottle and two glasses.</p>
<p>Kaidan sighs heavily, the sound echoes throughout the small room.  “I just … I can’t stop thinking about Ashley,” he admits after a minute or two.</p>
<p>Caleb sets the glasses onto the table and opens the bottle, pouring two-fingers worth of the liquid into each.  When he finishes, he caps the bottle then nudges a glass in Kaidan’s direction.  The lieutenant seems startled at first, but catches himself after a moment and takes it in hand.  Only then does Caleb lift his glass.  Instead of his usual toast, he murmurs, “<em>Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam</em>.”  At Kaidan’s quizzical look, he clarifies, “May she rest in peace.”</p>
<p>Kaidan nods and lifts his glass, clinking it softly against Caleb’s.  They drink in silence, each to their own thoughts, own memories.  When their glasses are empty, Kaidan sets his on the table.  Caleb is about to reach for the current bottle, but a twitch of distaste at his lips.  “Not to your liking?”</p>
<p>Kaidan shrugs but says nothing.</p>
<p>Grabbing what he affectionately refers to as <em>the good stuff</em>, he returns it to the storage locker and snags a different bottle.  “How about this?” he asks, tilting it so Kaidan can see the label.  When Kaidan hesitates, Caleb provides a smile of encouragement.  “Try some,” he insists.  “I promise, it’s good.”</p>
<p>Kaidan chuckles softly, conceding with a slight nod of his head.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had a commander quite so … well-versed, shall we say, in spirits?”</p>
<p>The smile that follows doesn’t reach his eyes as Caleb pours another two-fingers worth into their glasses.  This time, he reverts to his standard toast.  “<em>Sl</em><em>á</em><em>inte</em>.”  Their glasses clink lightly and they down the liquid in one gulp.  This time as he sets his glass down, Caleb takes a seat. </p>
<p>Kaidan follows.  “What was that you said?”</p>
<p>“Hmm?”  Rubbing his hands over his face, Caleb tilts his head until he can see the lieutenant.  “<em>Sl</em><em>á</em><em>inte</em>?  It means ‘good health.’”</p>
<p>Kaidan shakes his head.  “No, before.  When we were at the door,” he clarifies.</p>
<p>Caleb frowns and tries to think back.  So many things he says, so many in Irish, even, and he does it without really thinking about it at the time.  How is he supposed to remember?</p>
<p>“Sounded like something about a … cat?”</p>
<p>From one instant to the next, it’s as if a light turns on in his head.  “<em>Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat,</em>” he repeats.</p>
<p>“Yeah, that one.”</p>
<p>Chuckling, Caleb pours himself one last drink.  This time, he silently salutes his friend, hoping she is watching down over them and keeping them safe for the rest of this mission.  “Loosely translated, it means, <em>May the cat eat you, and may the divil eat the cat.”</em></p>
<p>Kaidan waits a moment or two before he asks, “What the hell does that mean?”</p>
<p>Sitting back up, Caleb shrugs.  “I was wishing Saren and surefire one-way ticket to hell, simply put.”  He looks over at Kaidan and tips his chin toward the bottle, but the lieutenant shakes his head.  Pushing both the bottle and his glass to the side, Caleb settles his hands on the table as he turns toward his friend.  “Look, Kaidan, I –.”</p>
<p>Shaking his head, Kaidan waves off the comment.  “I’m sorry I put you into such a position to begin with,” he says quietly.  His fingers fiddle with his glass.  “I … shouldn’t have, and now? …  The shock of losing Ash like that, it just …”</p>
<p>Caleb reaches over and plucks the glass from his hands before covering them with one of his to keep them still.  “The whole situation shouldn’t have happened the way it did,” he corrects.  “Ashley should be here now, drinking <em>with</em> us; it should never have been you or her.  But she isn’t here, and that’s Saren’s fault, not yours, not mine.  Understand?”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s closes his eyes for a minute, but he nods. </p>
<p>Pulling back, Caleb asks, “Do you remember that night on Arcturus, when we finally went out for the drink I owed you?”</p>
<p>His eyes open again and focus across the table with the question.  “What does that have to do with anything?”</p>
<p>Caleb shrugs.  “I made some comment about how things played out on Akuze.  And you said …?”</p>
<p>“<em>Situations like that are out of your control.  There isn’t anything you could have done to change the outcome,</em>” Kaidan repeats.  “Something like that, anyway.”</p>
<p>“I think we both know Ash would agree with that.”  Caleb leans back in his seat and sighs.  “I hate losing people under my command.  But it happens.  Will happen again, no matter how I wish it won’t.  Virmire … Akuze … the streets of Shannon.  Doesn’t matter where or who, it happens.  But each time, I try to learn something from it – take something that might just keep it from happening again, or at least will lessen the numbers.”</p>
<p>A thoughtful look crosses Kaidan’s face.  “And this time?” </p>
<p>Huffing softly, Caleb admits, “Still working that out.”</p>
<p>After several more moments of quiet, Kaidan pushes to his feet.  “Well, thanks for the talk, commander, and the drink. I –.”</p>
<p>Caleb’s eyes narrow to slits.  “Alenko, what have I told you?”</p>
<p>“Sir – .”</p>
<p>He folds his arms across his chest, giving his most intimidating stare.  Granted, after three quick drinks, it’s probably less than effective.  <em>Probably</em>.  But he’s got his N7 training behind it, too.  That has to count for something.</p>
<p>Kaidan sighs again and grumbles, “Fine, Shepard.”</p>
<p>Intimidation slips easily into amusement.  “Was that so difficult?  At least I’m not asking you to call me by my given name.”</p>
<p>“The point,” Kaidan continues acting as if he hadn’t been interrupted, though the hint of pink at his cheeks states otherwise, “I was trying to make was, thank you.  For taking the time to talk.  For the drinks.  For …”</p>
<p>He eases up immediately, sensing the completion of that thought.  “For remembering Ashley?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Not likely I’ll forget her.”</p>
<p>“No, I wasn’t suggesting you would.  I mean – .”</p>
<p>Rising, Caleb shakes his head.  “I remember every single person I’ve lost over the years under my command,” he says quietly.  “Ashley won’t ever be forgotten.”  And if he has his way about it, the entire family won’t ever be forgotten again.</p>
<p>“Thank you, sir.”  Kaidan slides to attention.  “Good night.”</p>
<p>“Good night.” </p>
<p>The minute the door shuts behind the lieutenant, Caleb pours one more drink.  It isn’t what he’d prefer, but the bottle is right in front of him.  Lifting his glass, he stares across the room at the door and lifts the glass and begins to recite, “Ciara, Colin, Sean, Brennan, Nora, Aoife, Killian and Siobhan.”  Each name comes easily from his memory, gliding off his tongue with his easy lilt.  He continues through the names of his unit on Akuze, of the couple of personnel lost over the years on his N7 missions, then hesitates as he concludes, “welcome her with open arms, if you’d be so kind.  Like you, she was the best of us and deserves the homecoming.  <em>May good luck be with you Wherever you go, and your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow.”</em> </p>
<p>When he finally tumbles into bed and falls to sleep that night, his dreams are blessedly still and empty for the first night in what feels like forever …</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Look at me, don’t look at anything else. It’s going to be alright</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>hurt/comfort prompt:  Look at me, don’t look at anything else. It’s going to be alright</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko and kids (Tadhg and Niamh)</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first sense of reality that returns is the warmth, the strength surrounding his hand.  Even before he opens his eyes, he knows who it is. </p>
<p>The second thing he notices is the desperation in his voice.  “Kaidan!”</p>
<p>His eyes open slowly, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust and he looks around the room.  Three sets of anxious eyes are focused solely on him. </p>
<p>Tadhg, twelve years old and going on twenty, doing his best to hide his worry, but the depth of his concern gives him away. </p>
<p>Nine year old Niamh stands next to her brother, tears streaming down her cheeks but otherwise silent.  Her small hand holds tightly to the tail of Tadhg’s shirt, her knuckles turning white.</p>
<p>And Shepard …  Kaidan gasps in a sharp, almost painful breath as he focuses on the man kneeling before him.  As intense as the day they met so long ago, and still remains no matter that the war has ended, Caleb’s brilliant blue gaze masks most things … except where Kaidan is concerned. </p>
<p>Kaidan tries to speak and has to clear his throat before sound actually escapes.  “W-what happened?”  More details filter in.  He sits on the sofa, but has no idea how he got here.  The last thing he recalls clearly is standing by the window across the room …</p>
<p>Caleb raises a hand, caresses his cheek, his eyes still searching for answers.  There is a smile plastered across his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.  “Almost passed out on me,” he explains as he runs a scan with his omni-tool.  “When did you eat last?”</p>
<p><em>Pass out …?  </em>Slowly, another piece of memory return.  Standing at the window … a beep at his wrist … a priority message, only not from another Spectre, but a voice from his past … </p>
<p>He sucks in a quick breath and starts coughing almost immediately.  Several moments pass and Caleb even pounds on his back a few times until Kaidan’s finally able to wave him off.  “’m fine,” he chokes.  “It - it isn’t that.”</p>
<p>“The hell you are fine!”  His husband’s famed Irish temper emerges; clearly, he’s not buying the explanation.  His hand moves in front of Kaidan, fingers snapping loudly, the motion something for Kaidan to focus on.  “Look at me, don’t look at anything else.”  He snaps again; Kaidan’s eyes shift left.  “It’s going to be alright.”  </p>
<p>
  <em>Alright?</em>
</p>
<p>A soft groan is torn from him, but he dutifully follows Caleb’s hands with his eyes until he is satisfied. </p>
<p>Only when his hands lower does Kaidan reach out.  He slides one hand to the back side of Caleb’s head and pulls him close until their foreheads touch.  This close, he doesn’t miss the faint tremor that shakes through Caleb or the way his eyes slam shut.  Kaidan knows he’s frightened him, and the guilt that accompanies that is real. </p>
<p>Still, there’s something bigger out of all of this, something unexpected, and he needs to warn his husband.  “I’m alright,” he insists.  His voice still shakes a little.  “It wasn’t lack of food or my implant that caused this.”</p>
<p>Caleb’s eyes open again.  “Then what?”</p>
<p>Lifting his left arm, Kaidan triggers his omni-tool.  The message comes into view, and he angles his arm so that Caleb can read it.  He waits, watches and then recognizes the exact instant when he understands, eyes widening as his gasp echoes through the room.  “How … how can this be?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>Looking beyond Caleb now, Kaidan gestures for Tadhg and Niamh to come over.  When they are within reach, he opens his arms and draws both into a warm embrace.  “I will be fine,” he promises.  “I’m so sorry I frightened you.”</p>
<p>Tadhg nods.  “What happened?”  He looks between both of his fathers.  He’s smart enough to sense when something is being kept from him.</p>
<p>“A message I received,” Kaidan explains.  He’s of the belief to give him as much as the truth as he can.  Maybe not all of it entirely, but enough.  “It was … it wasn’t what I expected.”</p>
<p>Niamh’s small hand reaches out toward him, touching his cheek.  Her green eyes are wide and solemn as she traces a path down to his chin.  Carefully, Kaidan reaches up and takes her hand in his, squeezing gently.  “I’m fine,” he promises her before pressing a kiss to her forehead.  He smiles at the both of them.  “Would you both do me a favor?”</p>
<p>Two heads bob in unison.</p>
<p>“I sure could use a bottle of water right now.”</p>
<p>They run out of the room, and Kaidan turns to Caleb, hoping to use the few minutes he has to good his advantage.  “I don’t know what to think,” he says quietly and nodding at the message.  “I trust the source, implicitly, but … alive?  After two years?  That seems … impossible.”</p>
<p>Caleb drops onto the couch next to him and wraps his arm around Kaidan’s shoulders.  He tugs him close then leans his head against his.  “I know …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0054"><h2>54. Cross My Heart and Hope To Die</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wordless ways to say I love you prompt:  Cross my heard and hope to die.</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A heavy burst of gunfire flies overhead as Shepard drops behind cover to reload his weapon and instinctively ducks his head.  Beside him, Kaidan offers what covering fire he can.  “How many?” Shepard gasps as he slams in another round of ammunition.  He hadn’t had the chance to take a rough count yet, and they continued to file out of the building.  In the distance, the soft sound of an explosion, or something near to it, echoes.</p><p>“At least platoon strength.  Maybe more.”  Kaidan ducks down as Shepard trades places with him and takes aim.  The rat-tat-tat-tat of the assault rifle drowns out all other shouts and yells across the battlefield.  With grim determination, he adds, “Doesn’t matter.”  Rising, he takes position alongside on Shepard’s right.</p><p>Michael grits his teeth.  Kaidan’s right; it doesn’t matter.  Not when Cerberus is involved.  Not when part of his team were brought here against their will.  Not when two of Kaidan’s students and his twin sister are the ones missing in that facility.  “We’ll get in there, don’t worry.”  He scans the battlefield, looking for any break in the action, a space or hole or even a weak link.  <em>Some</em>thing that might even remotely work to their advantage.  What he sees are far too many Cerberus troops up against his minimal numbers.</p><p>He’s startled when Kaidan asks, “Promise?” </p><p>It’s not the fact that he’s asked that strikes Shepard like a gut punch, but the hint of vulnerability in his voice.  The man is usually <em>his</em> pillar of strength, whether he knows it or not, and now he’s relying on Shepard to do the same for him?  At a loss for how exactly to respond, he recalls the young boy he witnessed Kandra speaking to when they were back in Colorado.  Shepard guesses the child was about six or seven, but he’d had such a serious look on his face at the time.  Later, when he asked her about it, Kandra explained that she’d asked the boy to do his very best to not be afraid.  The child had replied …</p><p>“Cross my heart and hope to die.”</p><p>He runs out of ammo again but notices at the same time that Kaidan hesitates.  Grabbing him by his arm, he pulls them both behind cover as another flurry of bullets flies over.  <em>Shit</em>, that was close!  “You okay?” he demands sharply thinking perhaps Kaidan is hit.</p><p>The major regards him with wide eyes and a pale face.  “Don’t,” he whispers, voice just slightly unsteady.  “Don’t even joke like that …  Not with me!”</p><p>Shepard jams another round of ammo into his weapon, exchanges it for the one in Kaidan’s hands and repeats the process.  Before rising, he wraps his hand around Kaidan’s head and gently tugs him forward until their foreheads touch.  It’s brief; the battle continues around them.  “I promise,” he vehemently insists, staring directly into Kaidan’s dark eyes.  “We will find them.  We will get out of this alive.  Got that?”</p><p>The intensity behind his words appears to snap Kaidan from the haze that had fallen, and his eyes close for a half-second as he nods.  “Understood, commander.”  Shepard finds it encouraging that Kaidan’s voice is just a bit stronger than a moment ago. </p><p>Shepard’s lips curve upward and he ghosts a quick, light kiss across his lips before adding, “Good, because I just found our way in.  Follow me.” From one second to the next, his corona flares and he moves forward.  Kaidan rises behind him with a grunt, but follows suit, and beyond him, Shepard now sees additional flares of dark energy as the rest of the biotics squads prepare to move. </p><p>“You sure know how to show a guy a good time,” Kaidan murmurs as he falls in beside him.</p><p>Shepard cackles softly as he gathers the dark energy necessary to charge forward.  “You ain’t seen nothing yet …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0055"><h2>55. A kiss under a full moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Full Kiss Prompt:  Under a full moon</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just to prove to some of you that I can indeed do fluff! lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As he descends to the common room from above stairs, Caleb notices that the evening atmosphere in <em>Old Neddy’s</em> hasn’t changed much in the decade plus he’s been gone.  Perhaps a bit more jovial now that the war is over and there is some relief to be had, or maybe that’s simply because of his presence.  Though there are fewer patrons, a few familiar faces recognize him and wave.  Smiling broadly, he waves back, but he doesn’t linger.  He is on a mission this evening, an important one to be sure, and he scans the room, eventually finding his quarry standing at the bar.</p>
<p>Moira is behind the counter tonight.  She greets him with a warm, familiar smile and pulls him a pint, sliding it over as he moves in next to Kaidan and Coats who are deep in conversation with Ruairí when he walks up. </p>
<p>“Ah, <em>sealgaire</em>,” Ruairí greets him, lifting his glass and murmuring the familiar toast.  It’s as natural as breathing to echo it in return. </p>
<p>Coats snorts softly and takes a sip of his glancing over at Caleb.  “You weren’t kidding, were you?”</p>
<p>Caleb chuckles before taking a long, deep pull from his glass.  “It’s taken you over a decade to realize that?”  When Ruairí and Kaidan both look confused, Caleb just shakes his head and bumps his shoulder into Coats’.   Setting the pint back on the counter, he chides with his usual friendly yet competitive grin, “You’re getting slow, old man.”</p>
<p>Coats ignores the jibe and turns his attention away to answer a question from Ruairí.  Caleb takes that moment to lean in toward Kaidan.  “Up for a walk?”</p>
<p>“Sure.” </p>
<p>They exit the pub together through the front door and turn left.  The sky is clear and there is a slight chill in the night air, but it is comfortable enough in their jackets.  Caleb leads the way in companionable silence for several blocks.  Instead of continuing on toward the river, they cross Tenth Street and head over two more then turn left again.  At this point, Caleb slows.  Some distance away, the Tenth Street bridge is in plain sight.  Somehow, it still connects the two sides of the river. </p>
<p>A small shudder works its way across Caleb’s shoulders and he hunches deeper into his jacket.  “D’you remember when I told you about meeting Ned?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.</p>
<p>Kaidan eyes him for a long minute and when he looks over, it’s difficult to miss the soft smirk on his lips.  Caleb arches his brow in question.  “The longer we’re here, the thicker your accent gets.”</p>
<p>Caleb laughs, a hint of embarrassment dusting his cheeks, but he doesn’t turn away. </p>
<p>“And yes, I remember.”</p>
<p>Placing a hand at Kaidan’s shoulder, he gently guides him down the embankment near the river’s edge.  When they reach the water line Caleb points across the water.  For a half-second, the old fear returns, but he manages to shake free of it before it takes firm hold.  “It was right about here,” he says quietly, tilting his chin at their feet, “where my memories begin.”  He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and stares up at the starry night sky.  The moon shines bright and full, gleaming off the water around them.  It’s good to see the stars again; feels like ages since he just stood back and looked up at the sky just to <em>see</em>.  No crises to resolve.  No wars to fight.  Nothing but time to stand and breathe deeply side by side with the person he cares most about. </p>
<p>It’s quiet around them; there are few vehicles that still work in this area of the country.  Kaidan reaches out and slides his hand into Caleb’s, squeezing.  “I’m just glad to be counted among them.”</p>
<p>Caleb returns the pressure.  “Can you walk a little further?”</p>
<p>“Wherever you lead is fine with me, you know that.” </p>
<p>The full meaning of his words is not lost on Caleb and with their hands still secured in the other’s, he continues tracing the shoreline.  His pace is casual; managing anything faster is impossible given the current state of his hip.   After another ten minutes or so, he slows again.  Just off the water’s edge, maybe a thousand feet distant and shining brightly under the moon, the outline of a smaller landmass is visible.  Lifting their joined hands, Caleb points at it.  “Over there?  That is Saint’s Island.  I met Anderson there.”</p>
<p>“You did?”  Kaidan stares over at him in surprise.  “Why there?”</p>
<p>Caleb sighs.  He chuckles softly as he explains, “You met <em>Athair</em> the other night, aye?”  Kaidan nods.  “When the <em>Reds </em>fell, after Ruairí and the rest could no longer keep going, I was still free.  From the time I met <em>Athair</em> when I walked out of the river, he always told me I could go to him for sanctuary, whenever necessary.  That night, when I had nowhere else to go, he took me and kept me safe.  When the danger came too close, he led me through a secret passage over there.” </p>
<p>Caleb sighs heavily and shakes his head.  “Apparently, he and Anderson knew each other from serving together in the First Contact War, so he called in a favor.”  Caleb’s lips press into a thin, tight line as his eyes focus across the water.  Though he knows this isn’t the right position to see it from, he imagines that day, the first image he ever had of Anderson as he stepped off the shuttle and greeted <em>Athair.</em>  Caleb misses Anderson, still cannot fully wrap his head around what happened up on the Citadel at the end of the war.  Guilt is a common friend these days, one that he has no doubt the admiral would chide him for, but that knowledge does little to chase it away.  “He saved my life that day.”</p>
<p>Kaidan tugs his hand free and closes the distance between them so he can wrap an arm around Caleb’s waist.  “Not the only time.”</p>
<p>“No.”  Caleb turns into the partial embrace and leans over until their foreheads touch.  Closing his eyes, he savors the closeness for a long moment in quiet.  “Thank you for coming to Ireland with me,” he whispers.  It’s all he can manage.  “I know you are worried about your mother – .”</p>
<p>Kaidan turns his head and stops him with a kiss; slow, easy, relaxed.  “Mom knows I’m safe,” he murmurs when they pull apart a little.  “Right now, you are most important to me.”</p>
<p>Caleb’s hand slides up behind Kaidan’s head, combs through his hair, and holds him still as he finds his lips again, this time the touch is more desperate and thorough.  “For so long,” he rasps when he stops to suck in a breath again, “I’ve wanted to share Ireland with you.”</p>
<p>Kaidan smiles and nuzzles his nose along the side of Caleb’s.  “You have,” he insists.  “Every glass of whiskey we’ve shared, every toast you give, every time you curse in Irish or just plain speak.”  He lifts his free hand and presses it over Caleb’s heart.  “Your home is here and you carry it wherever you go; past, present and future.  As long as we are together, it will always be here.”</p>
<p>Their lips touch again, soft and sweet; a kiss of love and affirmation.  Caleb wraps his arms around Kaidan and holds him tight.  “Always the romantic,” he murmurs, laughing softly. </p>
<p>Kaidan grins.  “You know me.”</p>
<p>“That I do, <em>mo ghr</em><em>á</em><em>.  </em>That, I very much do.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0056"><h2>56. Pull over.  Let me drive for a while.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>100 Ways to Say I Love You prompt - Pull over.  Let me drive for a while.</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko     guest appearance by Kandra Alenko</p><p>OTP:  Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The benefit of driving east like a bat out of hell is that when darkness comes, it comes faster, or seems to at any rate.  The downside is that the reapers ability to find them isn’t affected by the lack of light.</p><p>Shepard stares out the front-facing virtual window of the Mako absently watching the desert scrub flash by; blacker than black spots in the night that remind him of black holes in space.  Southern California is well behind them now, and they haven’t seen any reapers in over two hours, but they aren’t in the clear.  Not yet.  There are times during the past few hours he’s wondered if they ever will be again. </p><p>After the initial flurry in their efforts to break free and flee after collecting the latest additions to their group, everyone for the most part has settled down for the duration.  Most are asleep or resting in some capacity; it’s a tight fight in the vehicle, but they make it work.  Even James, who steadfastly mans the cannon and shoot at anything that came in range now sags in his safety harness, head resting against his chest, barely a hint of the soft snore he usually has when he sleeps. </p><p>But that isn’t the case up front.  With his eyes still trained ahead of them, Shepard asks, “How are we doing?”  He isn’t driving, so he directs the question to the only other person on full alert. </p><p>Kaidan sighs and rubs at his eyes, but he keeps one hand on the steering wheel at all times.  “Tell me we’ve got some water back there?  Somewhere?”  Dehydration isn’t something they needed right now; Shepard grimaces, remembering instances when it would cause the debilitating migraines Kaidan could never seem to avoid.</p><p>Shepard moves immediately; stretching around his seat, he grabs a bottle from the crate of provisions stashed there.  Kandra has somehow managed to wedge her foot against it to keep it in place; on purpose or not, he doesn’t know, but it earns her another tick on his respect-meter.  She’s been a trooper ever since they met up in Vancouver; he can only hope she sees him in a similar light now. </p><p>Turning back to Kaidan, he loosens the top and hands the bottle over.  When his fellow biotic accepts it, Shepard’s hand drops to help balance the wheel while he drinks.  There is little necessity for the action; Kaidan still keeps one hand on the wheel, but if nothing else it eases Shepard’s mind.  It’s only a matter of seconds before the bottle is drained, and Kaidan hands it back, both hands securely steering again.  “Thanks.”</p><p>“Why don’t you pull over,” Shepard suggests as he takes the empty.  Kaidan is exhausted, that much is clear and obvious.  He needs a break.  “Let me drive for a while.  God knows you can use the rest.  You’ve been at the wheel since Escondido.”</p><p>“That’s okay, I’m good for now.”</p><p>“Kaidan …”  There is a hint of warning in the tone, but it’s buffered by genuine concern.    </p><p>A soft, bemused chuckle escapes Kaidan’s lips.  “Do you honestly think I’m going to <em>willingly </em>hand over control of a Mako to you ever again?  After Therum?  After Eletania?”  He darts a quick, direct look over at Shepard.  “After Ilos?”</p><p>Shepard inhales sharply, chest puffing up as he prepares a counter argument, but a soft murmur from the back deflates him almost instantly.  “I’ve heard those stories, you know.”  The smirk is obvious in her voice.  “He’s right.”</p><p>As Kandra stretches and cautiously moves forward to crouch in the open space between the two of them, she adds, “I’ll relieve you, K, if you want a break?”</p><p>The suggestion triggers an amused grin, but he shakes his head.  “I’ve got it.  Thanks.”</p><p>Shepard, however, stares at her, arms folded across his broad chest.  His estimation of her recedes a bit at her current intervention.  “What makes you think he’d let you drive over someone who has actual military training on the vehicle?”</p><p>Kandra grins, leans over and whispers in conspiratorially, “Because I know how to drive?” </p><p>She’s quick, too, Shepard notices.  She doesn’t wait to see what, if any, fallout might come as a reaction to her comment and moves back to her seat.  Within seconds, she’s curled back up and dozing.  Another couple of miles fly by and she’s out like a light again.</p><p>Now that he doesn’t have her distracting him or her twin, Shepard focuses his full attention on Kaidan.  “You really should get some rest.”</p><p>Kaidan shrugs.  “I appreciate the offer, Shepard, but honestly, I’ve got this.  If you really want to help, grab me another bottle of water and a protein bar.”</p><p>He does so without question and hands them over one at a time until Kaidan has finished.  When he collects the trash, he asks, “Where are we?”</p><p>They’ve been following the old US interstate and highway system to avoid some of the worst the southwestern landscape has to offer.  While the Mako can handle any terrain, it substantially slows their progress when they head off road, and that was more trouble than help with the reapers on their heels.  This far out, however, Shepard judges the reapers a minimal to medium size threat; there is no immediate danger.</p><p>“Passing Kingman, Arizona.”  Kaidan points in a vaguely northeasterly direction.  “Grand Canyon’s up that way.  I’d like to stick to the old road systems as much as possible and avoid it.  We’ll make better time that way, at least until we hit the mountains.  That’s a whole other issue.”</p><p>Shepard settles back in his seat.  “And you think I can’t keep to the roads?”</p><p>Kaidan doesn’t answer, simply keeps his eyes on the road ahead of them, which leaves Shepard alone with his thoughts.  They have a long way to go before their relationship will be back to one hundred percent, before that trust is fully there again.  They might be stuck fighting a war together, leading the crusade for resistance on Earth, but that doesn’t guarantee an easy time of it.  <em>Hell, at this point, it’ll be a miracle if we get beyond twenty-five percent.</em> </p><p>The desert scrub flashes by, darker spots against the darkness of night.  <em>You’re stubborn</em>, he thinks, irritation simmering inside him.  <em>Far too stubborn for your own good.  We’re in this together and I’m just trying to help.</em>  Huffing softly, he sinks into his seat and folds his arms across his chest and stares out the front windows once more, sulking. </p><p>Several miles pass in silence – a silence that is surprisingly companionable given the circumstances – until the truth finally occurs to him, at which point he sits up straighter, his arms lowering to his sides.  He dares a quick look over at Kaidan out of the corner of his eye, but the major is focused on the road ahead.  <em>We’re both too stubborn for our own good, aren’t we?  </em>A smile curves at his lips.  <em>Yeah, that’s it … but you know what?  That’s why we’ll win this thing in the end.  We’ll win and the reapers won’t know what hit them …</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0057"><h2>57. A Kiss on the Back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Full Kiss Prompts = A kiss on the back</p>
<p>mShekno</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up at home, lying in bed next to his husband, knowing there is no impending departure waiting for him in a few hours or that he will be out of system for weeks on end, is the greatest feeling in the galaxy, Kaidan decides the first morning his retirement goes into effect.  No more unexpected separations or putting his life at risk.  He knows Caleb worries – worrie<em>d</em> – when he was gone.  For years, they’d had each other’s backs; relying on others to do so with the same level of trust and experience just wasn’t the same.  No two soldiers, or in this case, Spectres, were the same.  Kaidan remembers all too well their early days, how long it took him and Shepard to get to that point to begin with, and that doesn’t count the steps backward and forward again. </p>
<p><em>But look where it’s gotten you now</em>. </p>
<p>He stretches his arms over his head, relishing each pop and snap as his muscles and bones loosen.  Once the tension eases, he rolls over and sidles up against Caleb’s back so he can slide an arm around his waist.  Shepard is still fast asleep and lying on his side; Kaidan can’t blame him, not really.  It’s still dark out – getting used to the time difference between the Citadel and here will take time, but he has plenty of that now; and a quick glance at the chronometer assures him dawn isn’t too far off. </p>
<p>He’s tempted to get up and go check on Tadhg and Niamh.  Their close call just months ago still haunts him, and he isn’t used to being able to do that anytime he wants now.  But he doesn’t.  It’s summer and they’ll be up soon enough, all exuberant energy bouncing all over the place. </p>
<p>Instead, he folds one arm beneath his head on the pillow and tightens the other as he curls up closer to Caleb, practically wrapping himself around him like a warm blanket.  Slowly, carefully so as not to wake him, he leans over and presses an easy kiss on the back of his shoulder.  Then another.  And another.  That, too, is something he can now do whenever he wants, and the though is truly a heady one.</p>
<p>They’ve come so far in the decade they’ve known one another.  Good times and bad.  War and peace.  Whatever the galaxy has thrown at them, then and now, they’ve found a way to keep in step with; together. </p>
<p>A small shudder rolls through Kaidan, that most recent incident returning in force to the forefront of his memories.  <em>Too close.  </em>But it didn’t just end well, it ended far better than he or any of the others could have hoped.</p>
<p>Caleb shifts in his sleep, half rolling onto his back until he realizes Kaidan is blocking the way, at which point he makes a startled sound and lifts his arm to wrap around Kaidan’s shoulders, pulling him closer so their lips can meet this time.  “You’re awake,” he murmurs, voice rumbly with sleep. </p>
<p><em>You’re awake, </em>not, <em>You’re back. </em>  Kaidan grins; how can he not?  “Aye, commander,” he replies with a wink and a laugh, snuggling closer.  “Off duty and home to stay.  Think you’re up for the challenge?”</p>
<p>A lazy smile pulls across Caleb’s lips.  “Aye, I should think so …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0058"><h2>58. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fictional Kiss Prompt = a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss</p><p>mShekno</p><p>Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>OTP: Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks seems an eternity to wait, but if it means a chance to figure things out between them, Shepard is willing.  His mission after the Collectors is nearly over, and as determined as he is that they will make it back out of the Omega-4 relay, having an extra added incentive never hurts.  Well, that plus it sticks it to the Illusive Man and his heavy handed interference.  That <em>definitely</em> counts for something.</p><p>From the moment he opened his eyes on Lazarus Station, nearly everyone has reminded him, <em>Don’t trust him</em>.  Garrus, Anderson, Tali … even Liara.  Hasn’t he made it clear yet that he never has and never will?  So, maybe they have something … in common.  The Collectors need to be dealt with, end of story.  But it doesn’t take a genius to see too many corners are being cut in the process, and maybe he’s paranoid, but to him that reads like Cerberus has an ulterior motive.  One that they won’t share with him.   Add in the fact that TIM’s decision to drop hints and rumors at whatever whim he decides to follow, putting innocents at risk needlessly, well, the way Shepard sees it, taking a day for personal business should fly under the radar.  Only, he isn’t willing to risk that, either.  He’s about done with the whole damned thing.</p><p>He slips onto the Citadel easily enough; working with Bailey assures him that much.  Finding the meeting point takes a little longer seeing as it’s buried deep in Zakera Ward.  Still, he times it just right, even better than he could have hoped, and as he enters the building, he spies Kaidan at the front desk.  Good.  That’s one risk out the window, not having to expose his true identity, and instead he waits in the shadows near the bank of elevators. </p><p>He’s always been good at hiding in plain sight, and slips onto the lift easily.  The elevator is crowded – of course it is, but who is he to judge if it means they have some peace and quiet they need to talk – and by the time they arrive on the twenty-ninth floor, he’s pretty sure Kaidan knows he’s there.  He follows after him, hopping through the doors just before they close, and hurries down the hall to his left.  He doesn’t know the room number, but he nears a door that’s left open in invitation.  It could be a trap, part of him still believes it is, but he slips inside the room without hesitation anyway, sealing the door behind him. </p><p>Still facing the door, he asks softly, with a certain urgency, “Did David get to Grissom without any problems?”  Only then does he turn to face a room thick with shadows and very little light.  It takes a moment to find Kaidan, but he does, and he isn’t as far away as Shepard thought he might be.</p><p>“David is fine,” Kaidan replies.  “Anderson put me in touch with the woman in charge of the place.  Cerberus won’t have any contact with him there.”</p><p>“Good.”  Shepard takes a few more steps into the room looks around.  His lips twitch slightly at what he finds.  “Kinda small in, here, don’t you think?”</p><p>Kaidan’s cheeks darken a little, and for a moment, Shepard has hope.  He remembers all too clearly the last time he said that, and while he would give anything for a similar outcome tonight, he knows his chances are slim to none.  Especially when Kaidan folds his arms across his chest and gives Shepard a pointed look in return.  “You said you wanted to talk,” he argues.  “I didn’t figure size mattered.”</p><p>“Size always matters.”</p><p>The heat flares a little more though Kaidan fights it; Shepard sighs softly and backs down, and for the first time since waking up on Lazarus Station, his entire presence softens.  The Butcher of Torfan is no longer present, instead replaced by a man with too many regrets spanning over two lives.  He takes a seat on the corner of the bed, leaning forward until his arms rest across his thighs, head drops low, and he can stare at the floor.  “Kaidan, I –.”</p><p>Kaidan stops him with a disgruntled huff and starts to pace.  It catches Shepard off guard for a moment; he’s the one with the history of impatience and frustration.  Kaidan has always been the one to hold himself together, cool under pressure.  As their eyes meet and hold, he notices the regret that shines in Kaidan’s eyes, bright as a signal flare. </p><p>Kaidan comes to a stop directly in front of him.  “Look, before we really get into it, let me just say something first, okay?” </p><p>Shepard nods and remains silent. </p><p>Kaidan takes a deep breath and releases it slowly before beginning, “About Horizon, I just want to say … I’m sorry I took it out on you like I did.”</p><p>Shepard reaches deep for the patience to wait this out, for the willpower to keep his mouth shut and let Kaidan continue.</p><p>“To see you like that … well, it was a shock, to say the least.”</p><p>Shepard’s lips press into a tight, thin line.  “I understand,” he says.  “I’m sure I would have reacted similarly had our positions been reversed.”  They both know that’s not true; Kaidan would never be with Cerberus, but it’s the idea that counts. </p><p>“All I could think was, why didn’t you get in touch with me?  Contact me somehow?  We once meant something to each other.  At least, I thought we did.”</p><p>Shepard winces.  <em>Once.  </em>The past tense hurts, but he expects it.  “For what it’s worth, Kaidan, I did try.  I even asked Anderson.”  When he looks up, his smile is halfhearted.  “He wouldn’t tell me where you were, nor would he deliver a message from me.”</p><p>Kaidan picks up the pacing again and runs a hand through his hair in agitation.    </p><p>“Do you really want to keep rehashing this?” Shepard asks.  When Kaidan glances over at him, he shrugs.  “I can think of other things we can discuss that won’t lead us down a potential path of self-destruction.”  Kaidan frowns.  Shepard’s brow lifts.  “What?  You think I didn’t notice when you started to flare on Horizon?”</p><p>“Point.”  Kaidan stops pacing and sits in a chair by the window.  “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”</p><p>Shepard clasps his hands before him, stares at them as if they are the most interesting thing in the galaxy in that moment.  “I … wanted to tell you, to let you know …”  He pauses, considers the best way to explain.  “Look, fact of the matter is, I’m about to lead my team through the Omega-4 relay.”  Kaidan’s breath hitches, a soft echo throughout the room.  “I wanted a chance to … well, to just <em>see </em>you again.  To talk with you.  Maybe to clear some of this mess up?”  Shepard shakes his head but doesn’t look Kaidan in the eye just yet.  “I know your opinions on my current situation; you made that abundantly clear on Horizon, and that’s fine.  But I wanted you to know …”  He lifts his head finally and is suddenly pinned by the whiskey brown pair across from him.  Throat suddenly dry, he swallows twice before he can continue.  “At this point, I know it probably doesn’t mean anything to you anymore, but I wanted to let you know I still care.  Believe it or not, you were the first person I thought of when they woke me up.  I had no idea where I was, what happened, where you were; but you were the first.  And I … I just wanted you to know that.”</p><p>Kaidan’s jaw tightens as he grinds his teeth.  “Shepard …”</p><p>God, he hates that this has to be so hard, for the both of them, because he really doesn’t want it to be.  No matter what happens, he still cares.  Is that really so hard to understand?  To accept?  Taking another breath, he asks, “How’s Kandra?”</p><p>Kaidan blinks.  “What?”</p><p>Shepard chuckles.  “Your sister.  How is she?”  Probably hates him, too, just like her twin.</p><p>“I - Kandra?  She’s … fine, I guess?”  Kaidan’s head tilts slightly.  “Why are you asking about her?”</p><p>A wry smile twists his lips.  “You know, there have been a few times where I’ve wished she was the cook on the <em>Normandy </em>this go ‘round.”  Gardner tries, but even with better ingredients, he still doesn’t make anything Shepard really likes.  Kandra, on the other hand, performs magic in the kitchen.  He’s been witness to it first-hand.</p><p>Kaidan manages a short laugh.  “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”</p><p>Silence fills the room as they both sit across from one another.  Michael fidgets with his fingers; Kaidan stops grinding his teeth. </p><p>“Look, Kaidan –.”</p><p>“Shepard, I –.”</p><p>The laughter returns, easier this time for both of them.  Shepard rises to his feet and moves to stand next to Kaidan’s chair, but he stares out the window at the Citadel beyond.  “I am sorrier than you will ever know,” he whispers after several minutes, “for what you’ve had to go through.  I never wanted to hurt you like that.”</p><p>Kaidan’s sigh is weighted.  He pushes himself to his feet slowly, like an aged man for whom mobility is no longer easy.  But once he’s on his feet, he turns to face Shepard.  “I was lost for a long time.  I can’t even put into words the hell I went through.”</p><p>“I know.”  Shepard turns, facing him, then hesitates.  The whole purpose of this meeting was to let Kaidan know he was about to head through the Omega relay, which he’s done, but now?  “I just …”</p><p>No one is more surprised when Kaidan reaches out a hand to cradle Shepard’s cheek than Shepard is himself.  He holds his breath, waiting, watching with wide eyes, as Kaidan closes the distance between them and leans in to press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.  The touch is brief, and leaves Shepard’s lips tingling.  “Michael,” Kaidan breathes, his voice practically a groan, “I love you.  I loved you before, I still love you now.  Despite everything that’s happened.” </p><p>Without conscious thought, Shepard’s hands slide around Kaidan, securing around his broad shoulders and tugging him closer.  Time stands still as he covers Kaidan’s mouth with his, taking the initiative this time as he savors, devours, and more importantly, remembers.  He breaks free only when he cannot breathe, dropping his forehead to rest against Kaidan’s.  “I … I’m sorry, I ….”</p><p>Kaidan huffs softly.  “Yeah.”  His voice is as rough and raspy as Shepard’s.  “Um, s’okay, but … what I was going to say was … I, um, can’t …”</p><p>A small smirk twitches at Shepard’s lips as he looks into his eyes.  “Left you speechless, have I?”</p><p>Kaidan nearly chokes on a laugh.  “That’s one way to put it.”</p><p>“Good to know.”  Shepard’s hands slide up to frame Kaidan’s face.  “Answer me two things, okay?”  Kaidan nods.  “Have you found someone else?”</p><p>Kaidan blinks, tries to pull back, but Shepard doesn’t let him.  “What?  No!  Why would I?  I … I was still mourning you up until Horizon, dammit!”</p><p>Shepard smiles.  “That’s fine, that’s good,” he replies quickly.  His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest.  “Second question, do you …  Would you want to try again?”</p><p>This time, Kaidan does pull free.  He backs up across the room until his legs hit the edge of the bed and he sits.  “You’ve just told me you are about to go through the Omega relay!”</p><p>Shepard nods.  “Yes, but we have a way to get through safely.”</p><p>“Can you be sure of that?”</p><p>It’s on the tip of his tongue to assure him it is, but he doesn’t.  “One hundred percent?  No,” he finally replies.  “More like ninety-four percent it will get us there and back again.”</p><p>Kaidan bites his lip hard.  “And what then?  You do realize the Alliance wants to talk to you about what happened in Bahak, right?”</p><p>“I am aware, yes.  I promised Hackett I will turn myself in when I get back.”  Shepard shrugs then walks forward, dropping to crouch in front of him.  “Look, Kaidan, I know things won’t be easy, and it might be a while before we see one another again, but … I just … I kind of need to know … you know?”  Kaidan sighs, heavily, and for a moment Shepard thinks he’s blown it.  He's pushed too hard, too fast.  It’s too much, been too long, it's too … </p><p>“Yes.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0059"><h2>59. a hoarse whisper “kiss me” then licks their lips and says “please”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing/kissing prompt = a hoarse whisper “kiss me” then licks their lips and says “please”</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard/Kaidan Alenko ... and a moose ....</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Is the game on yet?” Caleb calls from the kitchen as he shoves the tub of ice cream back into the freezer so it doesn’t melt.  It’s been <em>ages </em>since he had any, and finding it on his last shopping trip was the second most delightful thing to happen that day.  The first currently sits in front of the vid screen with his own bowl of the frozen treat.</p>
<p>“Never would have taken you for a biotiball fan, Shepard.”</p>
<p>Caleb chuckles as he grabs his bowl and heads into the other room to join him.  Holding the bowl in one hand, he uses the other to vault himself over the back of the sofa and settles down in the seat next to Kaidan.  “Hey, if you can find a football match, I’m all for it.” </p>
<p>Kaidan shakes his head.  “Not tonight.”</p>
<p>“Then biotiball it is.” </p>
<p>Relaxing comes easier these days, and he’s pretty certain the reason for that as before; but he certainly isn’t going to complain about it.  Instead, he sinks low into the cushioned seats and scoops up a spoonful.  There is an artform to eating the frozen treat, and he is a master of it; it has no ‘name,’ per se, but that doesn’t matter.  The moment the first hint of vanilla and chocolate rolls across his tongue, Caleb sighs, groans, and his eyes close in pure bliss, the boitiball game completely forgotten now.  With deliberate slowness, he withdraws the spoon, dipping it back into his bowl.  A soft shudder of absolute delight rolls through him and he cradles the bowl close to his chest.  “<em>Mo sheacht mbeannacht ort!</em>” **</p>
<p>Kaidan darts a quick, suspicious look at him out of the corner of his eye.  “Are you always on such friendly terms with your ice cream?”</p>
<p>Caleb grins and takes another mouthful, a soft hum of pure pleasure rumbling in the back of his throat.  “Aye, when it is Moose Tracks,” he finally responds.  A soft huff escapes numb lips as he adds, “Whatever <em>that </em>is.”</p>
<p>The spoon stops halfway to Kaidan’s mouth and he targets Shepard with an incredulous look.  “You don’t know what a moose is?”</p>
<p>He shrugs.  “It’s an animal of some kind?  Never had any in Ireland.”</p>
<p>This time, Kaidan sets his bowl on the coffee table and turns his full attention to Shepard, tuning out the biotiball game completely.  “C’mon, you seriously expect me to believe you’ve never heard of a moose?”</p>
<p>Caleb shrugs a second time.  “Some broad deer-like creature with protrusions from its head, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Kaidan covers his face with both hands for just a moment and bites back a groan.  “Antlers,” he mutters beneath his breath.  “They’re called antlers.”  Half-tempted to do an extranet search to provide visual aids, he eventually decides to stay where he is.  “Have you ever seen one?”</p>
<p>Caleb’s gaze breaks from the vidscreen and turns to him.  “I told you, there are none in Ireland.  That’s all I know.”  Eyeing his bowl, he adds, “You cannot convince me this is made from a real moose anyway.”</p>
<p>“That isn’t the point!”</p>
<p>Caleb sets his own bowl aside and turns to face him.  “What is the point?” he challenges.  “You are trying to convince me I should care about some big cow-like animal that I’ve never even seen before simply because I like ice cream named after it?”</p>
<p>Kaidan leans toward him, eyes intensely focused upon Shepard.  “Yes.”</p>
<p>The move brings him just a few inches away … nearly close enough to touch, and suddenly, ice cream is the furthest thing from Caleb’s mind.  After several moments where the only sound comes from the vidscreen, Caleb leans forward and whispers hoarsely, “Kiss me.” </p>
<p>Kaidan’s eyes widen; he’s clearly startled by the request, but he isn’t openly refusing, either. </p>
<p>“Please,” Caleb adds softly.  His tongue darts out to swipe across his lips, clearing off any residual ice cream. </p>
<p>Kaidan’s eyes are drawn to the motion, tracking it.  “First,” he breathes after a moment, his eyes still focused on Caleb’s lips, “admit it.”</p>
<p>It takes a long minute for Caleb to remember what they were talking about.  “What?”</p>
<p>Kaidan pushes his shoulder and Caleb falls backward onto the sofa.  It’s a bit awkward at first, but not unwelcome, especially once Kaidan uses it to his advantage, leaning over him until their lips are mere centimeters apart.  “Admit that it matters.”</p>
<p>“That what matters?”</p>
<p>Kaidan chuckles, deep, rumbling, sexy as all hell, and Caleb shivers slightly at the matching look in his eyes.  “The moose …”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>** Mo sheacht mbeannacht ort! =  My seven blessings upon you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0060"><h2>60. Group Hug</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt:  Group Hug</p><p>OTP: Biotic Pinball Wizard  (mshenko)</p><p>Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, James Vega, Kandra Alenko</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shit!”</p><p>The exclamation is the only warning Shepard receives before Vega ducks down behind cover next to him, his large bulk hunching in on itself as much as it can so it provides a minimal target.  That the ‘minimal target’ is now positioned right next to Shepard and puts him in danger as well, is completely beside the point.  <em>It’s why they pay us the big bucks, right?</em>  Out of instinct, he reaches over and pushes Vega’s head down just a little bit lower. </p><p>The lieutenant takes it all in stride as the firefight continues around them.  “Hehehe, thanks <em>jefe</em>.”</p><p>“Not a problem, Vega.  I watch out for my team.”  Their eyes meet; Shepard sees the glitter of determination of his reflected in the younger man’s.  “<em>All </em>of them.”  <em>No one left behind</em>, is more than just the four words themselves.</p><p>An explosion nearby shakes the walls and results in both men ducking lower for a good thirty seconds.  Slowly, Shepard lifts his head, peering over the top edge of cover, so he can he survey the battlefield.  A flash of bluish white energy from at least a hundred feet away starts in his direction; he retreats quickly while shouting, “Kaidan!”  The ball of energy flies over his head, barely missing the top; a deep grunt of indignation escapes his throat as he lands hard on his ass.  Beside him, Vega shifts awkwardly in the cramped space.</p><p>“Kind of busy at the moment, commander!”</p><p>“Light me up, dammit!” Shepard shouts back.  Several moments pass without a response.  “I’m not being unreasonable here, Alenko!”</p><p>Vega moves to a crouching position and lays a wave of suppressive fire across the space.  Shepard pushes to his feet, keeping below the top edge as much as possible, this time peering around the side of cover.  Kaidan is off to the left, currently in the middle of what would look like hand-to-hand fighting to the uninitiated, but in reality, is just a bit more complicated, utilizing hand-to-hand techniques but with powerful biotics moves.  Flashes and flares of mass energy shoot out from them as their biotics connect, and from this position, it’s impossible to see who has the advantage.  It’s like nothing he’s ever seen before; then again, since arriving at this facility, that’s pretty much been the Cerberus approach.</p><p>With one last, heaving effort, Kaidan pulls his arm back as if to punch the person, but with a loud, growling roar a wave of energy flies from his hand as he thrusts it forward.  The resultant explosion throws his opponent about twenty feet away where they hit a wall, crumple, and fall into an unmoving heap on the floor. </p><p>There are still targets on the field that need removal, but many of them are worn down and this is <em>his </em>job.  Under normal circumstances, Kandra assists him in the process, lighting up each target for him so when he charges into them, they go down instantly or within seconds of his arrival.  It’s not a perfect tactic by any means, but effective in reducing numbers quickly, and it’s certainly an unexpected tactic, most of the time, anyway.</p><p>But Kandra has been missing for almost a week now along with three of Kaidan’s biotic spec ops people.  It’s taken that long to trace them here; as near as he can figure, being held hostage somewhere within this facility.  But that does him little good now, so he has to rely on Kaidan to light up his targets; sadly, a less efficient system when his skills and Alliance training are far better utilized in other ways.</p><p>That doesn’t mean Kaidan isn’t helping.  Not at all.  The major turns, dark eyes connecting with Shepard’s briefly, and Shepard can see the toll it’s taking.  Anger in Kaidan is … unusual to see first-hand, and intimidating as all hell if you’re on the receiving end of it, but it’s easy to understand the source.  Shepard nods at Kaidan while shifting his balance so he can move the instant the first target lights up. </p><p>Barely is the wave of energy released from Kaidan’s fingers when Shepard starts forward.  His hand starts tracing the mnemonic even before he moves, and by the time he hits his third step, the world around him speeds up into a blur of motion as he shoots forward at full throttle.  The instant he connects, he’s looking for the next target to repeat the process.  And again.  And again.</p><p>At the end of the hall, no fewer than six more Cerberus troops lie on the ground, incapacitated.  Kaidan hurries over to join Shepard while Vega brings up the rear, pausing by each target taken down just to make sure.  Any hint of a breath and he shoots, just once in the head.  It’s enough; these troops won’t ever see the light of day again, nor will they stop their retreat once the mission objective is obtained.</p><p>“Which way?” Kaidan asks as they rejoin at the T-intersection.</p><p>Shepard nods to their right.  “Floor plans say the heart of the facility is this way.  That’s my guess.”</p><p>Vega snorts softly.  “Well, what are we waiting for, Loco?  Let’s get moving.”</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Hall by hall, they clear their way deeper into the facility.  The other teams, including the one with Emilio and Konstantin, are moving in from other directions; all teams have the same goal: reach the heart of the facility, find Kandra and the other spec ops personnel.  As they move, however, it’s becoming increasingly clear this place needs to be destroyed at all costs.  They <em>might</em> be able to do that on the way out, but the primary objective doesn’t change. </p><p>The arrive at a door set back off the hallway in a recessed alcove and secured from the opposite side.  Kaidan drops to his knee and pulls up his hacking program.  James and Shepard stand off to each side, prepared to give fire support if necessary.  The minutes tick by, the air grows thick with tension.  Finally, Kaidan rises and steps back, in the process raising his biotic barrier field as he nods at Shepard but says nothing.  Shepard uses hand signals to communicate now, and they open the door and slip through.</p><p>The doorway leads into a short hallway that quickly opens into a much larger area … that is filled with signs of battle, but not directed at them.  No one in here, it seems, is even aware of their arrival.</p><p>“What the hell?”</p><p>Vega’s whispered exclamation registers fully with Shepard.  “Agreed, lieutenant.”  He glances over his shoulder at Kaidan whose gaze is focused solely ahead of them … and intently.  Shepard frowns.  “What is it?”</p><p>Kaidan’s shoulders tense and his biotic corona flares around his entire body; this isn’t his barrier field, this is something different, something raw, a reaction to what, Shepard doesn’t know, but he recognizes the difference and follows his lead.  As he does, he closes his eyes and focuses…</p><p>“<em>А щоб твоя дружинонька з кумом повелася</em>!”**</p><p>He doesn’t understand the words, but he’s heard the language and that tone enough at this late date to know it can mean only one thing, and that’s not good.  He steps to the side and pushes Kaidan ahead of him and Vega.  “You take lead.  Now!”</p><p>As they near the opening, it’s easier to get a grasp on the scene before them.  The room is some sort of … medical amphitheater, set lower in the center of the room with what looks to be an operating table in the middle surrounded by surgical paraphernalia.  Three bodies in scrubs lie on the floor, unmoving.Three more currently hurl mass effect fields at one another across the room from various points, changing position in between.  One of those figures stands just to their left.  Dressed in some sort of hospital gown, her corona flaring so high Michael wonders that she doesn’t overclock her amp in the process despite being L2. </p><p>Kandra Alenko, both hands raised, one aimed at either of the two remaining targets, lashes out angrily at her opponents using two separate waves of energy while bellowing a roar that would put any lion to shame.  “<em>А бодай тебе чорти вхопили</em>!”**</p><p>The three men rush into the space immediately.  Kaidan makes a bee-line for his twin, while James drops to a knee and without hesitation, takes aim at the person to their far right, unloading his weapon on them.  Shepard, spying the last target directly across the room and conveniently ‘lit up,’ charges over, a feral grin curling at his lips.</p><p>It doesn’t take much effort to bring these last two opponents down between Shepard’s biotics and Vega’s bullets.  When all is said and done, both reconvene with Kaidan who kneels on the floor with a collapsed Kandra in his arms.  “She’s overdone it,” he says in a voice that’s tight with concern as he looks up at Shepard.</p><p>“’m fine,” Kandra mutters, curling in toward her brother and tucks her head onto his shoulder. </p><p>But not before Shepard notices the blood trickling down from her nose and her ear.  Jabbing an arm in the direction of the lower level, he orders, “Vega, get something we can stop the bleeding with!”  He turns back to Kandra and reaches out to push some of her dark hair back from the left side of her face.  That’s when he notices more blood matted near her implant scar.  Carefully, he points it out to Kaidan who pulls off his gauntlet and gently prods at the area.  “Kan?”</p><p>She winces, biting back a cry of pain unsuccessfully, and curls tighter to him.  “Don’t … please!”</p><p>He pulls his hand back.  “What happened?”</p><p>She mutters something unintelligible and slides her arm around his shoulder as he stands up, bringing her with him.  “Lean against me if you feel dizzy,” he says softly, holding her in place at his side as he sets her feet on the floor. </p><p>She wobbles a moment and doesn’t bother to nod, simply rests her head against his shoulder.  Vega runs over with a sheet from the operating table below and hands it to Shepard who takes it and rips off a portion of it, handing that over to Kaidan.  Kandra, however, reaches out and snatches it from her twin’s fist, lifting it to her face.  Several minutes pass in silence, during which James starts to pace and prowl around the room, eventually retracing their steps to the doorway, presumably to keep an eye on things outside of the room.  As quiet as it is inside here now, it’s easy to forget they’re in enemy territory and the battle still rages elsewhere.</p><p>Assured Kaidan has the situation with his sister under control, Shepard follows after the lieutenant.  His agitated state is obvious.  Walking up next to him, Shepard asks, “You okay?”</p><p>The lieutenant mutters something in Spanish Shepard doesn’t understand, but if his tone of voice means anything at all, it isn’t complimentary in the least.  “Yeah, <em>jefe</em>, I’m good.”  Vega looks back at the twins, watches for a moment, then shakes his head and mutters again.  “What the hell, man?  This shit’s so fucked up!”</p><p>Shepard nods his agreement with the assessment.  “Not sure yet, but I’ve got an idea.  Hopefully, Kandra will be able to tell us something.”  A burst of static burns over his comms, but nothing intelligible comes across so he doesn’t try to return it.  He looks over at Vega.  “She’s not going to be in a good place coming out of this, you know.”</p><p>Vega’s eyes meet his and for the first time, Shepard sees something hard, glittering there.  It’s startling; it’s also clear it isn’t just because she’s a part of their group, it’s more than that.  James’ eyes trail back one more time in the direction of the siblings.  “Yeah, I know.”</p><p>The soft shuffle of padding footsteps nearing them has him turning toward the twins.  Kandra still looks a bit dazed, but if the grim determination and fiery spark in her eyes means anything, and Shepard knows from experience it does, it won’t be there much longer.  “We need to get you better clothing than that,” he says, nodding at the hospital style gown she wears with the rest of the sheet Vega had retrieved tied around her. </p><p>“It’s not far,” she informs him.  “Through those doors and to the right.” </p><p>Shepard nods once, watches as she visibly shakes her head as if clearing it, before releasing her hold on her brother.  It brings her to her full height, just at Kaidan’s shoulder.  All three men straighten as if standing at attention, each recognizing in their own way just how strong and resolute she is.  This isn’t the same woman who walked out of Vancouver with them just months ago.  Shepard meets her gaze head on and she seems startled for a moment when he opens his arms to her, inviting her in closer.  A half-second passes when a small smile finally appears at her lips.  As he wraps his arms around her, she murmurs, “Thank you.”</p><p>“For what?” </p><p>“For coming to get … me.” </p><p>None of them say anything about the crack in her voice.  Shepard’s arms tighten around her and Kaidan moves in and wraps his around the both of them.  “No one gets left behind,” Shepard insists quietly in her hair, repeating what he’d told Vega just a short while ago.  “You’re as much a part of this squad as we are.  Understand that?”</p><p>Kandra’s head rises and she looks at him, then her twin, and then over at James who stands awkwardly to the side.  Her eyes soften just a bit and she reaches a hand out, grasping him by his belt and tugging him into the group hug.  “Yeah,” she tells them as she slides her arm around his waist and he wraps his around her shoulders, “I get it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>**А щоб твоя дружинонька з кумом повелася  - Wish your wife had an affair with your kids’ God father.<br/>**А бодай тебе чорти вхопили  - May devils grab you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0061"><h2>61. Giggly Kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kissing prompt:  Giggly Kiss</p><p>mshenko</p><p>Michael Shepard/Kaidan Alenko</p><p>Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first time in his memory, Shepard is free of his past.  Completely, utterly, unexpectedly <em>free</em>.  No loose ends.  No last strings.  Nothing that might follow him for another fifteen years or more through life or into the unknown.  <em>FREE.</em></p><p>It’s completely unexpected and something he isn’t quite sure how to process.    </p><p>He’s also not quite sure how or where this fit of giggles came from.  <em>Giggles?  Him?</em>  The fucking Butcher of Torfan.  The man who told Sovereign to fuck off and die while saving the Citadel.  The man left behind on Earth as the reapers returned and now has to stop them.  <em>The man who single handedly eliminated the 10<sup>th</sup> Street Reds hold on both Chicago and New York City in the middle of an alien invasion.</em> </p><p>Then again, if <em>that </em>isn’t giggle worthy, he doesn’t know what is. </p><p>But he does it in private, so that, at least, minimizes who sees it.  In private, overlooking the city he once called home.  He wishes desperately for a cigarette – doesn’t matter that he doesn’t smoke.  Or, maybe a drink?  There isn’t much available here this late in the war, but maybe they can find something, <em>any</em>thing, stored away in the storeroom.  <em>She </em>might have been the biggest bitch this side of the Appalachians, but at one time, she had excellent taste in alcohol.  Surely, she didn’t drink through it all yet.</p><p>The soft sound of a door opening behind him registers, but he keeps his eyes focused out over the city.  Shuffling steps approach – slow, but no hesitation.  His lips curve slightly as he recognizes the weight of them.  <em>Kaidan</em>.  Has to be.  He’d have heard Vega approaching two floors ago, and Kandra knows when to leave him be.  Only one person willingly approaches when he’s in a <em>mood</em>. </p><p>And giggles – <em>giggles?! </em>– definitely qualify as a <em>mood</em>.</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>The burbles of laughter attempt to rise again; he clamps down on them tightly.  <em>This is insane!  Why???</em>  “Yeah,” he manages after a moment, pulling his gaze from the horizon and scuffing his boot into the wall.  As if to contradict his tight control, one lone bubble slithers up his windpipe and escapes as he finishes, “I’m good.”</p><p>One of Kaidan’s thick brows arch a fraction, just enough to let Michael know he notices.  <em>Shit.</em>  “Sure about that?”</p><p>Jaw clenching, Shepard swallows and nods.  “Positive,” he rasps.  This time, a rough squeak escapes and he scowls.  If Kaidan finds the situation amusing at all, he’s hiding it well, and that irritates Shepard to no end.  <em>How can he be better at hiding it than me?</em></p><p>“Mmhmm.”</p><p>Silence falls between them for a bit until it’s broken when Shepard tries to swallow back yet <em>another</em> giggle and it slips out as a choked laugh.  He turns to Kaidan, about to assure the man it isn’t because of him, but Kaidan apparently is just waiting for the opportunity.  Before Shepard knows it, the other biotic’s hand snakes around the back of his head and pulls him in close, their lips connecting.  The kiss is slow, gentle, and Shepard cannot stop a small murfle of sound; not a protest so much as a sound of surprise.  Immediately following that, though, he relaxes into it.</p><p>It’s unusual for Kaidan to start something like this; Shepard figures that has more to do with their small traveling group and the close proximity with the others at any given time.  But alone like this, it’s still unexpected, though not unwelcome.  In fact, Shepard slides his arms around the other man’s waist and tugs him closer, indicating that fact.  So much has happened of late, the stress taking its toll, and this is but a simple way to share it, release it … </p><p>And yet … the giggles don’t disappear.  If anything, they seem to burst free now that his focus is on the touch of their lips rather than keeping them under wraps.  With reluctance, Shepard breaks the kiss, touching his forehead to Kaidan’s while still holding him close.  “Sorry,” he mumbles around the laughter.  “Don’t know what’s come over me …”</p><p>Kaidan’s free hand rises to gently caress Shepard’s cheek.  Chuckling softly, he replies with a smirk, “Wouldn’t mind seeing it stick around for a while.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah.  It’s kind of … cute to see you this way.”</p><p>“Cute?”  Shepard scowls in mock consternation.  A part of him wants to scream, <em>The Butcher of Torfan is not cute! </em> Instead, he turns his head a bit, brushes his lips against Kaidan’s again and mutters, “Just shut up and kiss me again, will you …?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0062"><h2>62. Cuddling for warmth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Winter Writing Prompt:  Cuddling for Warmth</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>mShekno</p><p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A few years ago, I started following an Irish history blog online for research for another character of mine.  Yesterday, as I was contemplating this prompt, I received an update that focused on <a href="https://stairnaheireann.net/2020/12/12/christmas-in-ireland/">Irish Christmas. </a>  I couldn't resist adding a bit of that into this prompt!  Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Shuffling down the stairs and humming <em>I Saw Three Ships</em> beneath his breath, Caleb silently prays that this will be the last time he has to run upstairs for the night.  All he wants is a few minutes to himself; it doesn’t have to be much, just a good fifteen or twenty minutes to sit and soak in the holiday … and appreciate the fact that Kaidan made it home in time – barely – to celebrate with them. </p><p>His husband now stands at the large picture window in the front room, jacket removed and looking as if he’s been here the entire time and not at the beck and call of the Council for the past six weeks without a break.  It’s a chance they take with Kaidan still on active duty as a Spectre, Caleb understands that and he has no issue with it just so long as he comes home safe and sound in the end.  A part of him feels guilty for leaving Kaidan in the position of the one and only human Spectre, now of all times, but each time it comes up in discussion, the man brushes Caleb’s concerns away.  <em>You gave us this chance, it’s my job to see it takes hold.  </em>  </p><p>Caleb slides an arm around Kaidan’s waist and snuggles close as he steps up beside him.  Kaidan hums softly and half turns so he can do the same.  “Kids in bed finally?”</p><p>Caleb huffs softly.  “In bed, yes, but not asleep.  Niamh’s worried.”</p><p>Kaidan’s brow furrows in concern.  “About what?”</p><p>“That <em>Daidí na Nollag**</em> won’t know where to find her and Tadhg this year.”  Their first Christmas together as a family hasn’t come without its hiccups, but both Caleb and Kaidan, with occasional guidance from Kaidan’s mother, have prepared for it as best they can.  “He offered to read to her for a while and I agreed.”</p><p>Kaidan chuckles softly, a warm smile curling at his lips.  Both men glance over near the fireplace where the stockings currently hang empty.  The Christmas tree is nearby, lights flashing merrily and plenty of empty space to be filled beneath it.  “Yeah, that isn’t going to happen.”</p><p>“You and I know that,” Caleb points out with a grin, “but she has to wait until morning.  Remember, a night’s sleep can seem forever to a young child.”</p><p>Sighing, Kaidan tilts his head to the side as their eyes meet.  “Were we ever that young and naïve?”</p><p>“A lifetime ago,” Caleb concedes quietly.  “Two, in my case, I suppose.  Maybe even three, depending on how you look at it.” </p><p>He releases his hold and starts across the room, but Kaidan catches his hand before he gets far, tugging him to a stop.  Caleb spares a relaxed smile back over his shoulder to counter the concern filling whiskey-colored eyes.  “I’m good,” he promises.  Squeezing Kaidan’s hand in return, he retraces his steps and ghosts a quick kiss across his lips, adding, “I’ve more than made up for it.”</p><p>They head over to sit together on the sofa where Kaidan points to the tray on the table.  “Now, explain to me about this?”</p><p>Caleb’s grin widens.  “That is for <em>Daidí na Nollag</em>.”</p><p>Kaidan stretches to tap the bottle of Guinness with one finger while lifting the carrot into his hand.  “You know, we just left him cookies and milk.  Somehow, I think the beer and the mince pie defeats the purpose of the carrot.”</p><p>Caleb laughs and swats his hand away from the tray.  “It’s an old Irish tradition, y’heathen!” he teases.  “The carrot is for Rudolph.”  He gestures around the room and the other examples on display; the candle in the window, the wreaths, the decorated tree, even the music that plays softly. </p><p>Kaidan smirks and sits back.  “The reindeer, huh?  What is it with you and deer-like animals?”</p><p>Caleb pointedly ignores the reference and instead argues, “Don’t look at me – our son is the authority on that one.  When we had a carrot handy, I agreed.”  He shrugs.  “It seemed important to him.” </p><p>A few minutes pass in silence, the two of them just settling and <em>being</em> around one another, until finally Caleb sighs and reaches for Kaidan who, apparently, expects the move if the smirk at his lips is anything to go by.  “Will you just get over here,” Caleb mutters, a soft sigh of frustration escaping. </p><p>“I was wondering how long it would take.”</p><p>“And now you know.” </p><p>Somehow, they manage to stretch out together without falling to the floor, and Caleb snags the soft knitted blanket off the back of the sofa to cover them.  When Kaidan gives him a bemused look, Caleb retorts, “What?  You think I’ve forgotten your comments about Noveria?  Gellix?”</p><p>Kaidan snorts softly.  “I figured you had more pressing concerns at the time than memorizing anything I had to say about cold places we visited.”</p><p>Caleb strokes his husband’s cheek with the fingertips of one hand.  “Never.”  Then with a laugh, he adds, “Though, I still can’t figure out how someone from here, of all places, can be so cold all the time.”</p><p>The creak of floorboards above them silence both men; they listen intently to the footsteps padding from one room to another across the hall until they are silent once more.</p><p>“We probably ought to take care of the gifts now, don’t you think?” Kaidan murmurs a couple of minutes later.</p><p>Groaning, Caleb nods.  “Probably,” he agrees as he sits up again, “but I expect you right back here and under this blanket with me in half an hour.” </p><p>A bemused expression on his face, Kaidan asks, “What’s in half an hour?”</p><p>Caleb kisses him once more as he stands.  “I’ll be the one freezing by that point.”</p><p>Kaidan laughs as understanding dawns.  “Where’d you hide everything?” </p><p>“Out in the barn far from curious young eyes …”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>**Daidí na Nollag – Father Christmas/Santa Claus</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0063"><h2>63. Under the stars/Need</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiss prompt:  Under the stars/Need</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
<p>Set at the Alenko orchard post-war</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, there you are.”</p>
<p>Glancing up from his position at the desk, Caleb scans the room, his slightly bemused gaze falling upon the man in the doorway.  “Aye, here I am,” he agrees with a lopsided grin aimed at his husband.  “Did you need me?”</p>
<p>Kaidan enters with a matching smirk on his lips.  “Aye,” he replies drawing out the sound.  “Always.”</p>
<p>The hint of Irish lilt widens Caleb’s grin as he meets him in the middle of the room.  “Now, that,” he replies, his own accent thickening as his voice drops, “sounds promising.”  Leaning in, he ghosts a kiss across Kaidan’s cheek.  “What do you have in mind?”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s hand entwines with his and he tugs gently.  “Come with me and I’ll show you.”</p>
<p>Willingly, Caleb follows.  The kids are with Samantha Alenko this weekend, her gift to her son and Caleb for Shepard’s birthday so they can have the house to themselves.  But where Caleb expects Kaidan to turn toward the stairway, the biotic actually leads him into the kitchen and out the back door, pausing only to grab his coat along the way.  Caleb snags his as he walks by.  “Where are we going?”</p>
<p>Kaidan replies with a casual shrug.  “Something I want to show you.”</p>
<p>He is out the door before Caleb can protest.  Not that he plans to, although, it doesn’t escape his notice that his partner walks right by his cane as if it doesn’t exist.  That is a bit of a surprise.  The weather is chilly, winter is on the wane but the nights still get cold, and his hip still protests upon occasion.  Closing the door behind him, he descends the stairs deciding they must not be going far.</p>
<p>As soon as he is on level ground, Caleb pauses and inhales deeply, tilting his face toward the night sky as he fills his lungs.  Fresh air.  Clear skies.  A hint of moisture in the air which could mean rain or snow, depending on the temperature.  But most of all it never ceases to amaze him; proof that just two years out from the end of the Reaper war, environmental recovery is coming just as quickly as the reconstruction efforts elsewhere.</p>
<p>A warm hand slides around his until their fingers lace together.  Caleb shifts his gaze to Kaidan, a question in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Come on,” Kaidan urges with a warm, knowing smile and a tilt of his head.  “It’s not far.”</p>
<p>True to his word, their journey takes them to the eastern side of the house and down a gentle slope.  At the bottom of the hill is the rail fence that separates the orchard proper from the rest of the land, and it is here that Kaidan stops and rests his arms on the top rail as he stares out across the land.  “Hard to believe it’s only been two years, you know?”</p>
<p>Caleb mimics his position and nods.  Briefly, he’s reminded of another rail, a different backdrop but one no less important to him at the time than this is now.  The Citadel may never be the same again, but some things never change. </p>
<p>“Beautiful view.”</p>
<p>Kaidan huffs softly and bumps their shoulders.  “That’s my line, you know.” </p>
<p>Caleb nudges his shoulder back at him and delights at the soft chuckle that escapes the man’s lips.  “I know.”  Out here, each star in the sky glows and flickers like a pin pricked through a piece of dark paper with a bright light shining behind it.  The constellations are familiar, and so many of them have personal memories tied to them.  </p>
<p>“What was it you wanted to show me?”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s laughter deepens.  “You know, you <em>used </em>to have the patience of a saint, Shepard.  What happened?”</p>
<p>Caleb snorts softly and turns rest his hips against the fence.  He widens his stance slightly to maintain his balance, but the new angle gives him a decent view of Kaidan’s face.  “Married you.”</p>
<p>Kaidan grins.  “Mistake number one.”</p>
<p>Caleb huffs.  “We’re back to that again, are we?”</p>
<p>Kaidan leans in closer and ghosts a quick kiss over Caleb’s lips.  “Back to what?  I just wanted to go on a moonlit stroll with the man I love.”</p>
<p>Caleb’s gaze darts briefly toward the sky.  “Moon’s not out.”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s lips twitch.  “Mistake number two.”</p>
<p>“This … isn’t about the moose, is it?”  Bemused, Caleb’s brows furrow.  </p>
<p>Shaking his head, Kaidan moves to stand directly in front of Caleb.  “You aren’t ever going to let that go, are you?”</p>
<p>“<em>You</em> were the one who made a big deal out of it.  I was just in it for the ice cream.”  He straightens so Kaidan can stand right up against him and savors the warmth that rolls off him.  Looping his hands around Kaidan’s waist, he hooks his thumbs casually through the belt loops and tugs gently. </p>
<p>Kaidan’s hands slide beneath Caleb’s open coat and around his back as he inches closer.  “So, you married me just for the moose?  Is that what you are saying?”</p>
<p>“Moose <em>tracks</em>, there’s a difference.” </p>
<p>“Mmmhmm.  Mistake number three.”</p>
<p>Their lips meet and tangle together.  What starts as a gentle, exploratory touch quickly escalates to heat and need and desire so fast it leaves Caleb’s head spinning and for just a moment, he loses himself in it.  He pulls Kaidan as close as he can, angling his head slightly as Kaidan’s tongue slips past his lips to meet his own.    </p>
<p>When they break apart, Caleb struggles to find his breath while touching their foreheads.  The ability to speak returns after a time, and when it does, he stares into whiskey-colored eyes nearly as familiar to him as his own blue.  “Not,” he rasps softly and clears his throat before he tries again.  “Not a mistake.” </p>
<p>Kaidan peppers kisses along his jaw and down his neck and throat, pulling a deep but appreciative groan from Caleb who tilts his head back to give him easier access.  This is what he expected, just not out here in this place. </p>
<p><em>This place.  </em>“Wasn’t there something you were going to show me?”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s lips slide back over Caleb’s leaving a path of fiery heat in their wake.  This time his groan is low, deep, and sends tremors through his entire body.  Kaidan pushes as close as is physically possible, their hips brushing together and leaving no doubt that his interest is growing as well.  Caleb breaks the kiss this time and whispers softly but with a hint of desperation, “Let’s go back inside, <em>mo ghrá</em>.”</p>
<p>Kaidan chuckles, the deep, rumbly hint of laughter that never fails to leave Caleb wanting more.  He takes a step backward, but instead of starting toward the house, he wraps an arm around Caleb’s shoulders and helps him turn towards the east.  “Look, <em>mo shearc</em>,” he murmurs near his ear as he points. </p>
<p>To Caleb’s astonishment, rising above the distant peaks is the moon; bright, huge and very full.  Caleb’s breath catches in his chest and his hand tightens around his husband’s.  “Kaidan …”</p>
<p>Kaidan wraps his free arm around Caleb’s waist as he rests his chin on his shoulder.  “<em>Lá breithe shona duit</em>, <em>mo shearc</em>.  The best gift I could think to give you is the moon and the stars.”</p>
<p>Caleb sighs softly and savors the moment.  “You know me far too well, <em>mo ghrá</em>.”</p>
<p>“And that is definitely not a mistake.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0064"><h2>64. i don’t care if the world knows my name, i just want you to remember me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>writing prompt = i don’t care if the world knows my name, i just want you to remember me</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard/Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you sure about this?”</p>
<p>Caleb sits in bed, arm extended, datapad making his already sore fingers ache that much more when Kaidan refuses to accept it.  No, not refuse; that is too harsh.  What Caleb <em>does </em>know is that if his partner doesn’t take it from him and <em>soon</em>, it will fall onto the bed or the floor, possibly break, and they will have to go through this all over again.  And as much as Kaidan might want that to happen, it will <em>not </em>make Caleb change his decision.</p>
<p>“Aye,” he replies.  When still the man won’t take the device, Caleb sighs and tosses it to the foot of the bed.  Thankfully, it doesn’t slide off.  “<em>Mo ghr</em><em>á</em>, we’ve discussed this …”</p>
<p>Kaidan turns away from him, relocating in front of the fish tank where he paces back and forth, clearly agitated, but never looking back at Caleb. </p>
<p>Caleb sighs.  Stubbornness does not look good on the second human Spectre.  He pats the mattress to his right, asking quietly, “Sit with me a minute?”</p>
<p>He isn’t surprised when it takes the man a good couple of minutes to actually walk back over and sit down.  It doesn’t even sting when he sits just out of touching range, either.  What hurts is the fact he won’t look at him.  “Talk to me, Kaidan.” </p>
<p>The major stares down at the floor or possibly his boots, it is difficult to tell from this angle.  “I guess …  I guess I just thought we would be doing this together, is all.”</p>
<p>Caleb adjusts the pillows behind him, the motion allowing him to stretch a bit in the process.  He doesn’t miss the hint of pain in Kaidan’s voice as he speaks, and his heart twists tightly.  “It isn’t that I don’t want to.  You know that.”</p>
<p>“I know.”  Kaidan rubs the back of his hand across his forehead.  “And maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part – you were severely injured, after all.  But I’d hoped –.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>The question comes out soft, undemanding, and it finally draws Kaidan’s attention over to him.  It isn’t exactly disappointment Caleb sees in his features, but it is close.  The ache in his chest twists tighter.  Extending his bandaged right hand as he leans forward, he waits for Kaidan to take it; which he does, scooting up the bed enough that Caleb can lean back again, relaxing other muscles and bones still early in the healing process. </p>
<p>“You are the first human Spectre,” Kaidan replies.  “You are known throughout the galaxy for that.”  He glances over his shoulder at the abandoned datapad.  “Are you absolutely certain you want to give that up?”</p>
<p>Caleb lifts their joined hands.  “I am hardly in any shape to be a Spectre right now, am I?”  He knows he still has a long road to recovery after that final battle in London.  Kaidan knows it too. </p>
<p>“But resigning your commission?  Your Spectre status?  That’s just so … permanent!”</p>
<p>Caleb huffs softly and squeezes Kaidan’s hand as much as he dares which is, all things considered, a good sign, if not very forceful yet.  “<em>A chéadsearc,</em>** as much as I enjoy working with you, I cannot keep up any longer.  It is <em>your </em>turn to lead the way.  <em>Your</em> name that needs to be out there.  You are as much responsible for our victory as I am.”  He tugs Kaidan’s hand, urging him to scoot a little closer which he does.  That, at least, makes it easier for Caleb to run his unbandaged fingertips along the other man’s jaw. </p>
<p>“I don’t care if the world knows my name,” Kaidan argues though he doesn’t pull away, “I just want you to remember me.”</p>
<p>A deep, rumbling chuckle escapes Caleb’s lips and he leans over to kiss the man, gently, soothingly, yet with conviction.  “Not likely I’ll ever forget you; you know that.”  A light hint of color seeps into Kaidan’s cheeks and elicits another chuckle. </p>
<p>Huffing softly, Kaidan pulls back, muttering, “You are impossible.”</p>
<p>A wide grin spreads across Caleb’s face.  “Aye, perhaps.  Yet, that doesn’t make it any less true.”</p>
<p>Pushing to his feet, Kaidan wanders back over to the fish tank.  With his back to Caleb, he asks, “Is it wrong that I hoped we would go on as before?”</p>
<p>“Not at all.”  As quietly as possible, Caleb shifts beneath the bedding until his legs slide over the edge of the bed.  It’s a risk so soon after his latest surgery, but his physical training has been going well.  His cane, though he detests it, is within easy reach and takes it in hand, leaning on it heavily as he pushes himself up.  There is a point to this attempt, one he hopes Kaidan will see and appreciate. </p>
<p>A moment later, Kaidan turns back, eyes wide with worry before they even meet.  “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>Caleb isn’t more than a few steps from the bed at this point, though he wards Kaidan off with his left arm.  “Making a point,” he says with a heavy breath from effort.  “<em>Ní mhaireann rith maith ag an each i gcónaí</em>”**  He tilts his head, keeping their gazes connected.  “Aye?” </p>
<p>There are times he can read Kaidan easily and others where the man places a wall between them that leaves Caleb frustrated.  This time it is the former.  “Aye,” Kaidan agrees, reluctance in his tone.  He slides up next to Caleb and wraps his arm around his waist in support.  “I get it, Shepard.  Just … how about not injuring yourself further trying to convince a stubborn fool like me?”</p>
<p>As they turn back toward the bed, Caleb chuckles again and pauses to frame Kaidan’s face with his good hand.  “<em>Níl saoi gan locht, mo ghr</em><em>á</em><em>.</em>”**  The grin returns in full when Kaidan laughs.  “And I <em>do </em>have my faults.”</p>
<p>“Aye,” Kaidan agrees easily, his own grin mimicking Caleb’s, “that you do.  As do I.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>** A chéadsearc = my one and only</p>
<p>** Ní mhaireann rith maith ag an each i gcónaí = the steed does not keep his speed forever</p>
<p>** Níl saoi gan locht. = There’s not a wise man without fault (we’ve all got our weaknesses).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0065"><h2>65. This isn't your fault</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>writing prompt=This isn't your fault</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Caleb Shepard/Kaidan Alenko</p><p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p><p>tw:  grief, minor character death, death</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the coup attempt, the pace of the war picks up momentum.  There doesn’t seem to be a moment for any of them to just stop and breathe.  The reapers have been gaining ground much faster than before; whether that’s due to earlier success and the creation of new ground troops, more reapers arriving from dark space, or the mounting losses by Milky Way races.  Whatever the case, the undeniable fact is that the reapers are winning and that in turn means they are running from system to system, seeking out resources, patching up holes and hoping that everything they’re trying does <em>some </em>good.</p><p>Exhaustion stalks like a panther, night or day.  Poor decisions.  Losses grow in number.  Nothing about it encourages, so how are they to find their way through?  Shore leave is increasingly difficult to work into the schedule, no matter how desperately needed. </p><p>The <em>Normandy </em>collects the shuttle and zips out of the system before the reapers know they’ve left.  Before they hit the relay, Kaidan is showered, changed and back on duty in the CIC.  There is too much to be done, too few to do it, and too little time left to get it accomplished.  He is content to do his part and then some, especially if it gives Shepard a break.  He isn’t the only one to notice that with each passing day, his shoulders seem a bit lower, the circles beneath his eyes darker, his mood more and more inconsolable.  Something needs to be done; when no one else steps up, it falls on him.  Truth be told, he wouldn’t have it any other way.</p><p>They’re on the way to the Citadel, Cyone in their rearview mirror, when he reaches Shepard’s cabin.  He’s got a datapad in hand – not the best of news by a long shot, and likely will devastate Shepard once he sees it, but it is not the absolute worst, either.  <em>That </em>is the fact Kaidan hopes the man will see.  The door opens almost immediately after he knocks; Shepard stands there, damp hair in his eyes, blank look on his face.  “Kaidan?”</p><p>“Got a second?” Kaidan asks, lifting the datapad.</p><p>Shepard steps aside and gestures him in.  They descend to the lower level, and while Shepard reads over the information, Kaidan takes a moment to look into the fish tank.  At the same time, he counts the seconds that pass.</p><p>Behind him, Shepard curses in Irish, wraps his hand around the side of the datapad and flings it with enough force that it ends up corner-first wedged between panels of the wall.  Kaidan turns the moment he hears the grunt of disgust and catches the end of the display.  Slowly, his eyes meet Shepard’s.  <em>Fifteen.</em>   “Impressive.”</p><p>Shepard has the decency to look abashed for all of about a second before a scowl marks his face and he glowers back, a wall firmly slamming in place between them.  “You expect different?  We’re losing this war, Kaidan!”  He brushes past him and heads to the desk where he keeps a bottle of the ‘good stuff.’ </p><p>By the time Kaidan walks over, Shepard’s all but shoving a glass in his hands.  He knows it’s bad, <em>really </em>bad, when Shepard tosses back the drink without his usual toast.  Not even a hint of <em>Sláinte</em>, the easiest one there is.  Not only that, but he downs the entirety of the glass all at once.  It burns – it has to no matter how good it is – and the man’s lips thin into a straight line as he shakes his head once, then reaches out to pour another.  That one is gone before Kaidan is halfway through his.  When Shepard reaches for the bottle third time, Kaidan blocks the move, taking it in hand and setting it off to his left out of Shepard’s reach.  <em>Time for intervention.</em></p><p>Sudden tension fills the room, anger and frustration building.  Kaidan repositions himself between Shepard and the bottle.  Setting his own drink aside, he folds his arms across his chest and stares back at the man just as coldly.  Minutes tick by in silence.  The fish swim lazily in their tank, but out of the corner of his eye, the movement seems herky-jerky, as if even <em>they </em>sense trouble.  Kaidan isn’t worried he’s bitten off more than he can chew.  No, his worry is centered on the man in front of him, the one dressed in PT shorts, a tank top and his damp hair still straggling down in his face.  The one who currently has one of those, <em>if looks could kill</em>, sort of looks in his eyes.  The worry is for the man inside, the one who hurts, the one who is at his limit and is too damned stubborn to admit it.  The Irishman who is far more stubborn than any man has a right to be.</p><p>“Kaidan.”</p><p>There is warning in that voice, a hint of barely restrained violence.  Hard, cutting edges, brooking no argument.  One used to giving orders and having them carried out, one not used to being questioned. </p><p>Kaidan doesn’t move, doesn’t turn away, doesn’t do anything but return the look.  In that moment, it isn’t Kaidan reacting, but <em>Major </em>Alenko.  “Do not make me relieve you of duty, commander.”  He can give orders too, and if necessary, pull rank.</p><p>For just a moment, the anger bubbles higher in those blue eyes and it looks as if it might spill over the edge …</p><p>Kaidan lunges forward as his knees give out, slides an arm around his waist, pulls his arm around his shoulders, and leads him over to sit on the edge of the bed within a heartbeat before Shepard can collapse to the floor.  “Sit,” he urges quietly, easing him onto the mattress before looking around the room and spotting the N7 hoodie on the back of a chair.  This he grabs and drapes around Shepard’s shoulder. </p><p>His worry grows as Shepard sits there, staring straight ahead, breath coming in short, panting gasps.  Taking a knee in front of him, Kaidan waits patiently.  Each time he tries to connect their gazes, however, Shepard averts his.  It takes time, and lots of it, before his breathing eases.  Still, he does not look <em>at </em>Kaidan. </p><p>Shepard grimaces, eyes filled with a deep pain that Kaidan can only guess at, but finally the man rasps, “Word of advice; don’t <em>ever </em>get between an Irishman and his drink.”</p><p>Kaidan remains where he is, ever patient, still silent.  Finally, <em>finally</em>, Shepard looks at him.  A lop-sided smile toys at his lips and he reaches a hand out to brush Shepard’s hair out of his eyes.  “Some risks I’m willing to take.”</p><p>“<em>Mo ghrá</em>, …!”</p><p>Rising to his feet, Kaidan sits beside him, reaching over to take his left hand in his right and lace their fingers together.  “Better now?” he asks, changing the subject.  It isn’t, he knows that.  It won’t be for a long time to come, but the road needs to start now or it will not start at all.</p><p>Shepard’s shoulders collapse as the man lifts his free hand to cover his face.  Wrapping his arm around Shepard’s shoulder, Kaidan leans over, presses a gentle kiss to his jaw.  “This isn’t your fault, you know.”</p><p>“Isn’t it?”  Shepard’s hand drops and he turns to face Kaidan, disbelief etched throughout his face.  “I am the one in charge of all of this!  I am the one they expect to give them another bloody miracle!  I am the one who – !”</p><p>Kaidan uses his free hand to grasp Shepard’s jaw and force him to look directly at him.  “You see yourself as one man against the galaxy, but you aren’t alone.  <em>We </em>are all in this together.  You.  Me.  The crew of the <em>Normandy</em>.  The Turians.  The Krogan.  The Asari.  The Salarians.  Everyone of us!”  He releases his hold, absently noting the red marks his fingers leave behind.  “We all stand <em>together</em>, Caleb, or we do not stand at all!  Can’t you understand that?”</p><p>Shepard blinks once.  Twice.  His lips part, a strangled gurgle in his throat trying to break free, and in that moment, Kaidan finally sees it.  The crack.  The pain taking over.  The despair.  He slides his free hand around to the back of Shepard’s head while still holding his other, fingers laced.  Gently, he tilts the man’s head toward his until their foreheads touch.  The ragged breaths are back again, as Shepard fights it.  “Kaidan, I –.”</p><p>Kaidan’s hand tightens around Shepard’s.  “<em>This isn’t your fault!</em>” he repeats.  “She was N7 just like you!  She knew the risks!”</p><p>The tremors begin gently, building to something far more violent than a body should be able to withstand, but like Shepard does with most everything, he still fights it or will die trying.  Kaidan desperately prays it doesn’t come to that.  </p><p>Long minutes pass, but something changes.  What exactly, Kaidan has no idea, but Shepard’s eyes close, tears leaking past them and trailing down his cheeks.  His breathing becomes labored, rough, raspy, painful.  But it is the wail of grief from the deepest depths of his soul escaping past his lips that is what he has waited for since walking through the cabin door.  Kaidan winces, but does not pull away, does not move to cover his ears.  He will willingly pay whatever consequences may follow from this, but for now he is where he needs to be. </p><p>Time has no meaning, and it could be hours later when Shepard finally lifts his head, shudders one last time, but does not pull away from Kaidan.  He tries to speak, but only a hoarse whisper escapes.  Kaidan pushes to his feet and guides the man up beside him before helping him around to slide underneath the covers.  “I’ll be right back,” he promises as he releases his hold.  Shepard’s head snaps up toward his, but Kaidan simply repeats his promise and steps away.  When he returns less than a minute later, he has a bottle of water in hand which he opens and passes over before sitting on the other side of the bed next to him.  “Better?”</p><p>“I … feel numb.  Empty.”  Slowly, he looks over at Kaidan, adding in a whisper, “Lost.”</p><p>Kaidan scoots over next to him, wraps an arm around his shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.  “I know.”  And he does.  After Alchera.  Just weeks ago, when hearing the news about his father.  Death is never easy, no matter who you are or the circumstances.  He isn’t about to waste time with platitudes.  Instead, he holds him close and murmurs, “When you are ready – today, tomorrow, a year from now, whenever, or never – tell me more about her?  She sounds like a remarkable woman.”</p><p>Shepard sighs and swallows past a lump.  “Aye,” he finally manages.  “Rosa was one of the best of us …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0066"><h2>66. Gargalesthesia - the sensation caused by tickling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing prompt = Gargalesthesia - the sensation caused by tickling</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard/Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are times, especially late in the war, when Shepard is so exhausted, so worn down, that he just cannot move to save his life.  Once he ends up in his cabin after a mission or late at night after a full day of missions, briefings, and who knows what else, the idea of moving again, even just down to the crew deck for a meal, is too much.  Once he crashes on the bed or couch, he is down for the night and nothing and no one can get him to move again.</p>
<p>Kaidan accepts the challenge, of course.  No one, least of all Shepard, will ever consider him daunted by any challenge life has thrown him of late.  Of course, that does not guarantee the commander will always agree with the <em>manner </em>of persuasion the major attempts to use to get him up and moving.  In fact, he often vehemently disagrees.</p>
<p>This time, the cabin is dim, the only light from the fish tank, the overhead window which he consciously avoids looking at, and his model display kits behind him, but it is enough to aid the drowsiness that has plagued Shepard since his return from Rannoch.  The minute he enters his cabin, he lies down on the sofa, his arm bent beneath his head, and is nearly lost to blessed oblivion when the soft whoosh of the door to his cabin opening pulls him back from the brink.  A moment later, a dip in the cushions near his head assists, as does the hand that drops to run gently through his hair.  “Hey, Shepard.”</p>
<p>Shepard grumbles, too tired to put forth effort into any other sort of response. </p>
<p>Calloused fingers flutter lightly like butterfly wings around the shape of his ear.  Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but this time it sends a wave of light tremors racing through Shepard followed by a loud groan of annoyance.  It leaves him unable to speak for a moment and he folds into himself as he draws in a sharp, deep breath while pulling his knees to his chest.  “<em>M-mo ghr</em><em>á</em><em>!</em>” he finally gasps out, the sensations not ceasing. </p>
<p>“There you are.”</p>
<p>The other man’s response is so mild, <em>too </em>mild for the situation, and Shepard forces his eyes open.  He finds Kaidan leaning over him upside down, a wide smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.  Blinking twice, Shepard attempts to rein in the sensations – like a hundred spiders’ feet crawling across his soul – searching desperately for coherency.  “Why?”</p>
<p>The smile, as odd as it looks from a reversed position, fades and a more serious expression takes over.  “EDI says you haven’t eaten since we got back from Rannoch,” Kaidan explains.  “Dr. Chakwas says you haven’t yet checked in for your post-mission exam.  And Admiral Hackett says –.”</p>
<p>Shepard frowns.  “Hackett messaged you about me?”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s shoulder move slightly in a shrug.  “He contacted me regarding something involving the Crucible and mentioned you looked a bit ‘worse for wear.’”</p>
<p>Try as he might, exhaustion still creeps through Shepard, that slow drain that leaves him lead-footed and even moving to a sitting position is nearly impossible.  “A nap first,” he all but begs, eyes drifting shut again.</p>
<p>Another gasp is torn from him as that fluttering hint of discomfort fans out around his ear, down his neck.  “<em>Trasna ort féin!</em>”** he growls, swiping at Kaidan’s hand to bat it away.</p>
<p>“You need to eat, Shepard.”  He opens his omni-tool and does a quick scan as Shepard remains lying there.  “I’ll send this to Chakwas with the promise you will come back later for a more thorough exam, but you do need to eat.”</p>
<p>“Sleep,” Shepard insists, providing proof as a jaw-cracking yawn overtakes him.</p>
<p>Rising to his feet, Kaidan offers a hand, remaining next to him until Shepard slides his into it.  “For me?” he asks when Shepard just stands there, stubbornly refusing to leave. </p>
<p>Kaidan leans in and ghosts a quick kiss across the commander’s lips, a kiss that Shepard willingly gives in to … until that tickling sensation around his ear begins again.  “<em>Trasna ort féin!</em>” Shepard mutters again, anger blazing up in his blue eyes.  He is quick to note that Kaidan shows no sign of unease let alone remorse.  Figures. </p>
<p>Stepping around the coffee table and chairs, Kaidan guides Shepard toward the door to the cabin.  “Guess I don’t really need a translation for that one,” he jests with a rumbling chuckle.</p>
<p>“Just … stop, all right?”  He rubs the outer shell of his ear with his fingers for good measure, attempting to remove the memory as much as the echo of the sensation.  “Fine.  Food.  That’s it.  Good enough?”</p>
<p>As they step onto the elevator, Kaidan nods.  “It’s a start.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>**Trasna ort féin! = Go cross yourself!  (Go f*** yourself).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0067"><h2>67. In a vehicle/celebration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kissing prompt:  In a vehicle/celebration</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Shepard, come on!  We’re going to be late!”</p><p>Caleb enters the kitchen still fastening the sleeve of his shirt, his tie tucked into his back pocket.  “We have plenty of time, <em>mo ghrá</em>.  What’s the rush?”</p><p>Kaidan snorts softly, his toe tapping lightly against the floor in a steady rhythm in an uncharacteristic show of impatience while he flips the keys to their vehicle back and forth around his hand.  Palm to back to palm again.  “Our son?”</p><p>A slow, lazy grin curves Caleb’s lips.  <em>Tadhg</em>.  The now fourteen-year-old is still learning the value of patience versus the need to get something done immediately.  Caleb doesn’t blame him, not after his upbringing in Shannon during the years before their paths crossed, but change is coming, if slowly.  “Well, that’s good, at least.”</p><p>Kaidan frowns in confusion.  “What is?”</p><p>Securing off the last button, Caleb reaches for his jacket, a newer version of his old and worn leather N7 one that hangs nearby.  Sliding it over his arms, he grins over at his husband.  “The fact you didn’t refer to him as <em>my </em>son due to his impatience.  We have an hour before the recital starts.  We’ll be fine.”</p><p>Kaidan rolls his eyes and turns out the back door.  When the reach the car, he slides in on the driver’s side while Caleb takes the other.  A soft beep fills the car and Kaidan checks his omni-tool before starting the vehicle.  “Okay, he’s <em>your </em>son now.”</p><p>Caleb snorts.  “Well, <em>that </em>escalated quickly.  Why’s that?”</p><p>Clearing his throat, Kaidan reads, “<em>Tell </em>daidí<em> to hurry up.  Please.</em>”  After he finishes reading the message, he starts the vehicle and gets them under way.</p><p>“At least he is polite about it?” Caleb counters.  “Could be more the <em>heathen</em> you occasionally seem to think I am.”  When Kaidan glances over at him, Caleb grins and winks.</p><p>“You are really in a mood tonight, aren’t you?”</p><p>Pulling out his tie, Caleb loops it around his neck, practiced fingers setting it into place.  “Aye.  A good one, I’d hope.”</p><p>The drive into town isn’t a long one, and they soon pull into the parking area at the school.  Before Kaidan exits the vehicle, however, Caleb catches his hand and tugs him toward the middle of the car.  “Hey, c’mere, you.”</p><p>One thick, dark eyebrow raises, half in amusement and half in question.  “We’re going to be late.”</p><p>A knowing smile curve at Caleb’s lips.  “When are you going to believe me when I tell you we have plenty of time now?”</p><p>There is a half second of silence, old memories sneaking in.  Caleb recognizes the haze that takes over Kaidan’s eyes, the sort of glaze that means he’s looking to the past.  It’s easy enough to guess when:  The <em>Normandy</em>, their cabin, a quiet discussion on the way to that final battle.  A hint of a shudder rolls across Kaidan’s shoulders and Caleb’s hand slides up to frame Kaidan’s cheek as he leans toward him, foreheads touching lightly.  “Don’t go back there, <em>mo ghrá</em>,” he murmurs gently.  “We made it.  We’re here.  We have everything before us now.”</p><p>One last shudder works its way through before Kaidan nods.  “I know, it’s just …”</p><p>Caleb tilts his head slightly, covering Kaidan’s lips with his own in a gentle kiss of affirmation.  When it breaks, he pulls back just enough to meet the whiskey-colored eyes he loves so much.  “We’re here to celebrate Tadhg’s piano skills, not fall back into the past.”</p><p>Kaidan sighs and nods.  “Mmm.”  He leans over to ghost one more, quick kiss across Caleb’s lips then reaches for the door, hesitating once more just before opening it. </p><p>“What is it?” </p><p>Kaidan’s chin tilts toward the building, and as Caleb’s gaze follows, he spies their son standing just outside of the doorway, a worried look pinching his brow as he looks around the lot.  With a small smile, one that leaves a sparkle in his eyes, he chuckles.  “C’mon, slowpoke.  He’s waited long enough, don’t you think?”</p><p>“Wait, how did this suddenly get turned back around onto me?”</p><p>Caleb joins Kaidan at the front end of the vehicle and they head toward the building, falling into step together as naturally as breathing.  Tadhg notices them immediately, and the look of relief on his face is almost comical.  As Caleb reaches an arm out, Tadhg runs over and slides beneath it, hugging him around his waist.  Glancing over at Kaidan, he grins.  “He is <em>our </em>son, right?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0068"><h2>68. a lifting off the ground hug</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>hug prompt:  lifting off the ground</p>
<p>MShenko</p>
<p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko,  Niamh Shepard-Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Daid</em><em>í</em>?”</p>
<p>The waiting area is crowded – nothing unusual about that, except maybe for the time of year.  The late winter/early spring storm outside futzes with shuttle traffic everywhere, it seems, and where normally a handful of people mill around the area until theirs arrives, today it is at least five times that number.  Caleb glances down at the owner of the soft voice who stands to his right, her small, seven-year-old hand tucked securely in his much larger one.  “Aye, <em>a stor</em>?”</p>
<p>Niamh glances up, a slightly concerned look in her green eyes.  Caleb’s heart lurches for a moment.  She rarely ever gets that look these days, not since returning to Canada with him and Kaidan after the war.  Still, every once in a while, she does and those few times usually do not end well.  Taking a knee in the overcrowded Kamloops spaceport, he lowers to her eye level and gives her his full attention.  “What is it, darlin’?”</p>
<p>Her eyes dart furtively around the Arrivals section; Caleb’s follow, searching for the source of her concern.  When she turns back to him, she throws her arms around his neck and buries her face against his neck.  “Now, Niamh,” he murmurs gently while rising to his feet again with her in his arms, “you are perfectly safe here.  You know this.”</p>
<p>She sniffles, arms tightening, face remaining hidden.  A moment later, a droplet of water tickles down the inside of his collar.  Securing his hold on her, he surveys the area again.  The Arrivals board flashes a change – another delay, not surprising given the late season storm outside.  There were already three inches on the ground when he left the orchard to head into the city.  Tadhg opted to stay home with <em>seanmháthair </em>rather than a long drive in the snow.  But Niamh had insisted, and like Kaidan, Caleb can deny her nothing. </p>
<p><em>Mo ghr</em><em>á,</em> he thinks to himself as people continue to mill around them and the others still waiting,<em> where are you?</em> </p>
<p>A synthetic voice announces the arrival of a shuttle delayed for two hours out of Ottawa; three groups of people nearby look relieved, but the majority of the rest are in the same boat as Caleb – still waiting.  The chronometer on the wall nearby isn’t helpful either, simply reinforcing that the shuttle from London is over an hour late. </p>
<p>But beyond the normal din around him, Caleb catches the soft strains of music, barely audible with all the commotion.  Tilting his head slightly, a smile curves on his lips as he recognizes the tune.  Slowly and carefully, he moves to the beat and rhythm of the song, humming the tune beneath his breath so Niamh hears while gently bouncing her in his arms.  She remains as she is … but after only a few bars, he feels her lips curl against the side of his neck. </p>
<p>Still, even he is aware the mission objective has not yet been achieved.</p>
<p>Glancing around again, he locates an exit strategy and eventually makes it over to the right side of the room; still good view of the Arrivals gate, but with space enough for him to set Niamh on her feet.  Crouching before her again as he sets her down, he winks.  Her eyes brighten a little as she now hears the music drifting down from a speaker above them.  “Can we?”</p>
<p>Caleb nods, ruffling her red-gold curls as he stands up and takes her hand.  “Of course, but you will have to show me.” </p>
<p>She nods with all the solemnity a child can muster in such a moment.  They have a little bit of free space around them, and she takes a couple of steps to her left to the beat of the tune.  Caleb, as promised, follows.  When she turns back the way they came, he scoots that way.  Above them, the song continues; on the floor, Niamh keeps moving, each series of steps a bit more complex.  Faithfully, Caleb mimics them, in the back of his mind, one lone thought; <em>if only the </em>Normandy <em>crew could see me now!</em></p>
<p>The song changes over, the rhythm altering slightly, but it’s still upbeat and his daughter isn’t fazed one bit.  When she hops three times, he hops with her.  When she shuffles heels first, then toes, then heels again several times in a row, he does the same.  <em>At least the dance lessons are paying off</em>.  He pretends to mess up his footing at one point, accepting the mix of scowl and concern she throws like well-aimed daggers in his direction with a laugh and a casual shrug. </p>
<p>“<em>Daidí</em>!”</p>
<p>“I’m doing the best I can!”</p>
<p>“<em>A stor</em>, haven’t you learned <em>daidí</em> has all the dancing ability of a krogan?”</p>
<p>Caleb spins around on his heels, amazed that he and Niamh can get so engrossed in the activity he completely misses Kaidan’s arrival. </p>
<p>Niamh, on the other hand, seems unperturbed, shouting, “Papa!” as she throws herself at him. </p>
<p>The second human Spectre lifts her into his arms, hugging her close and kissing her cheek.  Remaining close, he murmurs in a conspiratorial tone loud enough Caleb can hear, “I think he’s too old to train.”  She giggles, clearly pleased with the observation, and nods her head vigorously in agreement. </p>
<p>One of Caleb’s brows arch a fraction, but it doesn’t last.  “Aye, probably.”  Caleb steps closer, pulling his husband and daughter both into his arms.  He is not completely unprepared, however. </p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s yelp of surprise is the most delightful of greetings.</p>
<p>Niamh’s giggles turn into a long peal of childish delight as Caleb lifts them both in his arms and off the ground.  As he sets them back down, he grins at Kaidan before planting a welcome home kiss on his lips.  “Then again, maybe this ‘old dog’ can still learn a few new tricks after all?”</p>
<p>Setting Niamh down, Kaidan returns the hug with a grin of his own, no lift this time.  Releasing him, he murmurs into Caleb’s ear, “I look forward to finding out!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0069"><h2>69. A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>kissing prompt = A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Caleb Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, Coats</p><p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p><p>Setting:  Post Reaper war, Shannon, Ireland</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Late nights at <em>Old Neddy’s </em>have always been commonplace over the years so far as Caleb Shepard recalls.  With his return to Shannon after the war, they are <em>still</em> a thing – understandable – to the point that for the duration of his first week home in fifteen years, last call is pushed back an additional hour each night.  It’s been far too long, and there are plenty of people who remember him as well as those who simply want to meet the ‘local boy who saved the galaxy.’  In the end, even he admits he needs to see them as much as they need to see him, though it does seem forever before 0230 arrives.  For Coats and Kaidan it is a bit easier to make excuses and break away at a more reasonable hour.  Though Caleb would prefer to follow – he <em>is</em> still in recovery mode, after all – he doesn’t.  But the moment time is called, and while Moira chases the last of the patrons out, Caleb makes his escape rather than remaining to help clean up.  The small, knowing smirk followed by the quick wink Moira sends his direction assures him she is aware of his tricks.  Then again, she does not call him back.</p><p>After three nights of this, he is nearing his limit.  He stumbles up the stairs, not so much because of the excess of drink as the near constant state of exhaustion.  He tries to be quiet, passing the closed door to his old room where Coats now sleeps, and continues on to the small kitchenette.  As tired as he is, he needs to wind down, and he has a mind to set the kettle to heating for a cup of tea.  At least he does, until he finds it warm. </p><p>“Hey there.”</p><p>Sighing softly, Caleb turns towards Kaidan who stands just outside in the hall, sauntering over and leaning in to kiss him.  Kaidan meets him willingly, eagerly even, and as the kiss breaks, he can’t help but smile.  “I’ve half a mind to tell Moira to set last call back to normal time starting tomorrow night,” he murmurs grumpily.</p><p>Kaidan chuckles, that low, deep, rumbling laugh that’s sexy as sin and leaves Caleb’s insides melting.  The biotic hands over a mostly-filled mug, the gentle scent of the tea rising between them briefly.  “I’ll admit, I didn’t think it would be quite this bad, though I suppose I should have realized.  It’s been a long time since they’ve seen you.”</p><p>Caleb snorts, taking a cautious sip of the hot drink.  The temperature is just right and he downs about a third of it in one gulp.  “Aye, half my life, practically,” he agrees.  He extends his free hand, tracing the line of Kaidan’s jaw from his temple to his chin as he adds, “Still, I want time with you, too.”  Setting the tea onto the counter just inside the doorway, he tugs the man closer, wrapping his arms around him.  “C’mere, <em>mo ghr</em><em>á</em>.”</p><p>Kaidan chuckles again as their lips meet, and Caleb swallows the sound.  Groaning softly, he takes his time savoring the contact and reveling in the fact the war is over and the demands on his time are, theoretically, fewer and they actually have <em>time </em>to explore this side of their relationship more without pressure. </p><p>Kaidan nips gently along Caleb’s lower lip; Caleb’s eyes close as a faint prickle of desire awakens deep inside.  Dammit, this, <em>this </em>is who he wants to spend that time with, who has <em>earned </em>that time from him.  The war was fought so that moments like this could exist, could be savored!  But even after the Reapers were gone, weeks and months of medical treatment and therapy for him, reconstruction and recovery efforts for Kaidan kept them apart.  Is it too much to ask just for a little bit of time …?</p><p>Caleb’s bad hip protests beneath him, and rather than risking a fall, he carefully moves inside the kitchen area to use the counter as support.  Kaidan follows eagerly, never breaking contact.  Clearly, he, too, has waited for these moments, if his enthusiasm means anything.  Resting his arms around Kaidan’s shoulders, Caleb draws him in as close as possible, meeting and matching every nip and touch.  Eventually, they do pull apart, both fighting for breath.  Caleb doesn’t release him, though, and continues to nuzzle along Kaidan’s jaw and neck.</p><p>As he tips his head to the side to give Caleb greater access, Kaidan murmurs around another soft chuckle, “Impatient, are we Shepard?”</p><p>“<em>Níl aon smaoineamh agat, mo ghr</em><em>á</em>.”**</p><p>Kaidan groans softly when Caleb finds the juncture of his neck and shoulder.  “Didn’t quite catch that …”</p><p>Grinning, Caleb pulls back.  “I said, …”</p><p>He’s cut off suddenly as bright light fills his eyes when he can’t shut them quickly enough and Coats says in an amused voice, “Isn’t it past your bedtime, Shannon?”</p><p>Caleb stiffens slightly, but he manages a half-strangled laugh.  “Feck off, English, or go find your own.”  His arms tighten around Kaidan who is laughing, too. </p><p>Coats wanders over to the refrigerator, pulls out a bottle then heads back out of the room with a snort.  “You Irish are a bit too prickly,” he calls back over his shoulder.  “Not my type.”</p><p>“Bloody Sassenach!”</p><p>Coats grunts a laugh before lifting the bottle he carries in salute.  “Blind Mick!”  He then disappears back into his room.</p><p>Kaidan, unable to stop laughing, pushes back a half step and looks at Caleb.  “What the <em>hell</em> was that all about?”</p><p>Caleb’s lips twitch as he releases the man and turns to set the now cold tea in the sink.  On their way out of the room, he turns off the light.  “There’s nothing quite like the ‘love’ between the Irish and the English, <em>mo ghr</em><em>á</em><em>,</em>” he replies as they head into their room. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>**Níl aon smaoineamh agat = You have no idea   (I hope this is correct as I could find it no place other than google translate)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0070"><h2>70. I noticed.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt = I noticed.   (100 Wordless Ways to Say I Love You)</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Kristofer Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: All the Time in the World</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are times when Kristofer thinks – <em>believes </em>– he’s almost good enough.  That it isn’t because of his name or his face.  Or maybe that someone actually thinks he is more than just a tech head.  That the War Hero isn’t just a fluke and the N7 ranking some gift of the gods.  That saving the galaxy isn’t something just anyone can do.  Every once in a while, for just a moment in time, he really believes he is something <em>more</em>.  Something worth having.  Worth celebrating.</p>
<p>Those few moments always involve Kaidan. </p>
<p>Surprisingly enough, this one time, he and the man he loves are on opposite sides of weapons from the other.</p>
<p>“Kaidan, please, just listen.”  He doesn’t want to beg, doesn’t want to think that all they have together comes down to this one moment in time that could well end up being the last.  He can’t – <em>won’t! </em>– back down!  There is too much at stake!  Why can’t Kaidan see that?  Understand that?  “The salarian councilor confirmed it – Udina is helping Cerberus with this coup!”</p>
<p>The man in question snorts in disgust and shouts from across the landing pad, “You never have proof!”</p>
<p>A smile curls at Kristofer’s lips; a knowing look, almost feral.  Without shifting his weapon, he taps his omni-tool.  A vid starts playing, Valern relaying his warnings.  First it is a copy of the QEC message from the <em>Normandy, </em>followed immediately by the encounter just outside of the Executor’s office.  The vid cuts off just as the assassin moves into the picture, blade swinging and guns shooting. </p>
<p>With his eyes focused solely on Kaidan, Kris explains, “You <em>know </em>me, Kaidan.  I wouldn’t make this up – I can’t!  Councilor Valern is with Commander Bailey right now.  All we have to do is get there, he can explain it to you in person and –.”</p>
<p>“And have you deliver us into Cerberus’ hands yourself?” Udina counters, anger flushing his face red.  “I think not!”</p>
<p>The other two councilors exchange a look before Tevos says, “Perhaps we should listen to the commander.  While we have not always agreed, he has never lied to us.”</p>
<p>Throwing his arms in the air, Udina heads towards the console.  Behind Kris, Garrus takes aim.  James shifts his stance as well. </p>
<p>Kris swallows past the tightness in his throat.  Both he and Kaidan still have their weapons pointed at one another.  <em>Why won’t you believe in me like I do you?  </em> “Kaidan?  Please!” he hisses softly.  “You have to believe me!”</p>
<p>Kaidan shifts sideways a step.  Kris moves with him.  “If you notice,” Kaidan replies softly, “I haven’t done anything to stop you.”</p>
<p>Hope soars through Kris.  Inhaling sharply, he replies, “I noticed.”</p>
<p>Udina starts fiddling with the keypad of the terminal as Kaidan finally turns to face him.  “Step away from the terminal, councilor,” he orders.  Kris moves a step or two closer until they stand side-by-side. </p>
<p>“To hell with this!” Udina growls. </p>
<p>Simultaneously, several things happen.  Councilor Tevos walks over to Udina until he pulls a gun on her and shoves her away.  Behind them, Kris hears James shout, “He’s got a gun!”, and in the next moment, it rises and takes aim at … Kaidan.  Acting on instinct, Kris fires his weapon while throwing himself into Kaidan’s side with as much force as he can muster from a standstill.  It’s enough to make the second human Spectre stumble, lowering him out of range of the shot.  Kristofer isn’t sure exactly what happens after that.  His eyes close out of reaction, he falls down too, landing awkwardly on Kaidan’s hip while on the receiving end of an elbow to his ribs, and then he is staring up at the sky. </p>
<p>“Hey, you okay?”</p>
<p>Kris blinks and the sky is replaced by a pair of the most remarkable brown eyes he’s ever seen.  It’s so easy to forget his surroundings when that’s what he has to look at.  “Yeah … think so?”  Inhaling deeply, Kris whispers, “Told you I noticed …”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0071"><h2>71. Washing each other's hair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>intimacy prompts = washing each other's hair</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Kristofer Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p><p>OTP: All the Time in the World</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Gaaaah!”</p><p>Kaidan cannot hide his amusement as they ride the lift up to Kristofer’s cabin, his soft chuckle reverberating through the small space.  “Is that your professional opinion, Shepard?”</p><p>Kristofer glances over at his fellow Spectre, eyes narrowed.  “Absolutely,” the commander replies deadpan.  “Requirement in order to pass on from N2.”</p><p>It takes less than a half-second for the two of them to give in to laughter.  By the time they recover themselves, the lift slows, depositing them on the landing outside of Shepard’s cabin.</p><p>Now eyeing the state of his own armor, Kaidan asks, “Those were <em>rachni</em>?”  He follows Shepard inside and starts removing his armor immediately, setting the plates in neat piles to the left the entry way to deal with later.  Kristofer does the same thing with his. </p><p>“Yeah.”  Kris flashes a quick look over at the man and shakes his head, still laughing softly in bewilderment.  “Like Vega said, Reapers got their hands on them, I guess.  We ran into some on Tuchanka, too, when we were helping Wrex.”</p><p>Kaidan hesitates, barely noticeable, except in the half-second of extra time before he answers.  Most people wouldn’t notice or care, but Kris does.  While things have gone well professionally since Kaidan rejoined the ship, and even better where their personal relationship is concerned, the second human Spectre occasionally has a moment here and there where he is playing catch-up.  “After that, you still insist that letting the queen go is the right thing to do?”</p><p>Removing his under armor and dropping it next to the rest, Kris nods.  He strips out of his remaining clothing without a second thought before heading in to start the shower.  “I do.  Look, I know you have concerns, Kaidan – you have ever since Noveria, and that’s okay, really.”  The water heats up almost instantaneously, filling the small room with steam, some of which leaks out into his office space in small puffs that cling to the walls and ceiling as it travels.  “But the fact remains, she is a good asset and she wants to see the Reapers defeated as much as we do.  You heard her say that.”  He steps under the spray, rinsing off what he can of the rachni guts and gunk still clinging to him. </p><p>Kaidan joins him a moment later and they switch places.  “And you trust her?”</p><p>“I do.” </p><p>Kaidan reaches for the bottle of shampoo, but Kris grabs it and pours some of the liquid into his hands while gesturing the other man to turn around.  Setting it aside again, he combs his fingers through Kaidan’s damp hair, gently rubbing his fingers along his scalp as the suds clean.  “If you have concerns, go talk to Liara.  She found some … well, interesting information on them in the Shadow Broker’s files.  You may not want to believe it, but you might change your mind with what she found.  Trust me, they’re on the same side as we are.”  When Kaidan groans softly, Kris chuckles, wondering if he will have to reiterate what he just said after they’re finished in here.  “That good’s, at least.”</p><p>It takes a moment for Kaidan to respond.  “Mmm?  What is?”</p><p>“That sound you just made.  Maybe I’ll moonlight as a hair stylist after the war, hmm?”  He guides Kaidan beneath the water to rinse which keeps him from responding, then reaches for the bottle again. </p><p>This time, Kaidan grabs the bottle.  He steps out of the water spray and turns Kris around, apparently determined to return the favor.  Kris can’t say that he minds one bit.  “And you don’t think,” he asks as he works his fingers through Kris’ hair, “that after the war they will be a problem?”</p><p>It is dangerous to reply with the soap in his hair dribbling down his face near his lips, so Kris shakes his head for the moment.  Anything else is going to have to wait.  Being on the receiving end this time, Kris understands the source of the noises Kaidan made earlier.  At least until he legs start to feel like gelatin and he worries they will give out beneath him.  It also occurs to him that Kaidan has taken at least twice as long washing his hair as it took him.  At that point, he steps forward and rinses off his face so he can at least speak.  Clearing his eyes with a hand, he peers over at Kaidan.  “What’s taking you so long?”</p><p>There’s a small smirk on his lips.  “Rachni guts in your hair.”</p><p>Kris rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest when Kaidan starts scrubbing again.  He doesn’t believe him for one minute, but he also cannot protest the personalized attention and that, he suspects, makes Kaidan happy, too.</p><p>“All right, rinse off.” </p><p>Kris steps under the spray again.  When he steps back out, Kaidan hands over the bar of soap before trading places.  “So, to answer your question, no, I do not think the rachni queen will be a problem after the war.  Don’t think I ever told you, but last year, I received a message from her.”</p><p>Kaidan freezes in the process of rinsing off and looks over at him.  “You saw her?”</p><p>“No, someone delivered a message to me on her behalf.”  He shrugs.  “The important thing is, everything in that message supported that she kept her promise to leave.  The only reason they are an issue now is because the Reapers found them.”</p><p>They switch places again, moving in the familiar ‘dance,’ and Kris steps beneath the spray one last time.  By the time he finishes, Kaidan has retrieved a couple of towels, one of which he hands over.  Together, they exit into the main part of the cabin where Kris descends to the lower level and digs out a fresh set of fatigues.  “Satisfied?”</p><p>“Not really, but it was your call to make, not mine,” Kaidan replies as he does the same.  “But it does leave me curious.  What are you going to tell Hackett?”</p><p>Laughing, Kristofer yanks his t-shirt over his head.  “That the Crucible project better keep an eye out for a bunch of rachni heading their way to help.”  He slides into his pants then grabs for his boots, lacing them up with practiced ease.</p><p>“<em>Commander?  Admiral Hackett is on the QEC for you.”</em></p><p>“On my way, Traynor.”  Glancing over at Kaidan, Kris says, “Go on and head down to the mess, I’ll meet you there when I’m done talking to Hackett.”  At the doorway, he glances back.  “And, while you are there, ask Liara about the rachni.  Fascinating stuff!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0072"><h2>72. Listening to Someone's Heartbeat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Intimacy prompt = listening to someone's heartbeat</p><p>Setting - 2 years after the Reaper War, Alenko Orchard/Citadel</p><p>mShenko</p><p>Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, also featuring Niamh and Tadhg Shepard-Alenko, Abby Williams and Major Ryan Coats</p><p>OTP: Brothers in Arms</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The message, when it comes, isn’t wholly unexpected.  From the moment of enlistment at the age of eighteen, Caleb Shepard knew it was a distinct possibility.  The dangers of being a soldier, the risks of the mission, the simple byproduct of being in the wrong place at the wrong time; it is always a possibility.  Granted, no longer being on active duty diminishes the risk considerably.  For himself.  The one thing he never expects is to be on the receiving end of such a message.</p><p>“<em>Daid</em><em>í</em>, hurry!”</p><p>Caleb is in the middle of pouring syrup over a Niamh sized stack of waffles when her plaintive cry flies across the kitchen targeting him.  He is about to remind her to be patient, but a soft and very English-sounding cackle from his left requires attention first.  Caleb elbows Coats in the ribs while Abby, having clearly foreseen the upcoming attack, swoops in to rescue the plate and takes it over to the child.  “Careful there, <em>sealgaire</em>,” she calls back to him while setting it in front of Niamh, ruffling her curls as she pulls away, “I’d kind of like my marriage to last more than a month, you know?”</p><p>Coats responds to the prod by grabbing Caleb’s arm and twisting it behind his back – not too hard, but just enough to get his attention.  “Back to this again, are we, Shannon?”</p><p>Caleb responds with a move similar to his ‘dance’ days with Vega in the Shuttle Bay of the <em>Normandy </em>during the war, flipping Coats over his shoulder and onto his back on the floor.  It results in a winded groan as well as a rattling of the dishes in the cabinets.  But as the former commander side-steps the major to get back to the waffle iron, Coats grabs his leg.  Caleb catches himself on the edge of the counter, knocking the bowl of waffle batter over the edge … and upside down in the center of Coats’ chest.  All of this happens just as his omni-tool starts to buzz. </p><p>“Shannon!”</p><p>“<em>Trasna ort féin, </em>Hammersmith!”**  Coats releases him as he shakes his leg free, stepping off to the side of the kitchen before opening up his omni-tool. </p><p>As he retreats, Abby shoos him completely out of the room.  “I’ll clean this mess up and take care of the children.”  Her gaze drops to her husband who is making more of a mess as he sits up.  “All <em>three </em>of them.  Go take your call, it’s probably Kaidan.” </p><p>Caleb smiles his thanks to her and heads down the hall.  By the time he enters the den, the call is up, but the person on the other end of the connection is not familiar to him.  “This is Shepard.” </p><p>“Commander, I apologize for interrupting your morning,” a pleasant yet concerned female voice begins from the other end.  “My name is Adrienne Pelletier.  I am the personal assistant to Councilor Osoba.”</p><p>An unexpected chill runs down Caleb’s spine.  <em>What does Osoba want with me?  I’m no longer a Spectre.  </em>“How may I be of assistance?”</p><p>There is a momentary pause in the connection, as if she hesitates before responding.  “Sir, the Councilor asked me to contact you regarding the current status of Spectre Alenko.  He has been injured in the line of duty ….”</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>It is rare that Caleb ever finds himself in such a tailspin that he loses not just track of time, but what he does <em>with </em>that time.  He has no memory of Osoba’s assistant promising a transport to collect him.  He must have made some noise or sound of distress, because Abby suddenly appears out of nowhere promising that she and Coats will watch the children until he finds out more about the situation.  The shuttle arrives – how much later, he can only guess – and he manages to say goodbye to Niamh and Tadhg without worrying them, at least, he thinks he does?  He doesn’t recall either of them begging to go with him or asking awkward questions.  The flight from the orchard to the Citadel is an indeterminable length, though logically he knows several hours have to have passed. </p><p>It is only as the shuttle arrives on the Citadel, when he is met at the docks by Pelletier and she personally escorts him through the hospital to the critical care ward that he fully tunes back in to his surroundings.</p><p>“In here, commander,” Pelletier says gently, gesturing to a room with two salarians standing outside.  “When you are ready, just ask one of the Spectre operatives to contact me and we can see about arrangements for your stay.”</p><p>It is only as she mentions them that Caleb notices the two Spectres standing just outside of the hospital room.  Either there is a very high security risk somewhere, or this entire situation is worse than he thought.  “Thank you.”</p><p>An asari in a doctor’s uniform joins them before he can enter.  “Commander, this is Dr. Nyryna M’doari.  She is Spectre Alenko’s attending physician.”</p><p>Caleb speaks with the doctor for several minutes.  None of what he hears is reassuring.  Finally, unable to wait any longer, he asks, “May I go in and see him now?”</p><p>“Of course, commander.”</p><p>The moment he steps into the room and the door starts to close behind him, Caleb is reminded of another hospital room three years ago, of the injuries Kaidan sustained at the hands of the Cerberus infiltration unit on Mars.  As Caleb approaches now, Kaidan turns slowly, carefully, and extends a hand out to Caleb.  “Hey there.”</p><p>Caleb immediately takes Kaidan’s hand in his own, refusing to let go, while using the toe of his left foot to snag a chair off to the side and pull it over so he can sit.  “<em>Mo ghr</em><em>á</em>,” he breathes, dropping onto the seat and pulling Kaidan’s hand to hold it for long minutes tight against his chest, “what the hell happened?”</p><p>Kaidan grimaces, but doesn’t look away.  “Not sure.  You know how shorthanded C-Sec is at the moment.  Pagin and I were called in to check out a disturbance in Kithoi Ward.  Next thing we know, we’re walking into an ambush.”  He lifts his left arm which is strapped in a far too familiar bandage.  “It’s not that serious –.”</p><p>“Not that serious?”  Caleb pulls his gaze from the bandage to Kaidan’s face.  “A compound fracture?”</p><p>Kaidan actually appears startled.  “How did you know?”</p><p>Caleb huffs and tips his chin in the direction of Kaidan’s arm.  “Even if I hadn’t spoken to Dr. M’doari before coming in here, you think I don’t know how they’re treated?”  He tightens his grasp around the hand he is holding and bites his lower lip.  Anger and irritation bubble just beneath the surface; not at Kaidan, but at the situation.  At the knowledge he wasn’t there when Kaidan needed him most.  At the thought of what could have happened … </p><p>Kaidan squeezes his good hand, pulling Caleb’s attention back to him.  “Hey, do me a favor?”</p><p>He nods.  “Anything, <em>mo ghr</em><em>á</em><em>,</em> you know that.  What do you need?”</p><p>Kaidan pulls his hand free and pats the mattress.  “You.  Up here.  With me.” </p><p>Caleb eyes him skeptically.  “There isn’t much room.”</p><p>Kaidan manages a weary smile.  “More than you might think.  C’mon.”  He scoots over to make as much space as possible and pats the mattress again.  “Please?”</p><p>Of course, Caleb gives in, though he has an eye on the door as he does so.  In all honesty, he half-expects a nurse or doctor to walk in and send him packing for such behavior.  But the door remains closed as he settles in the bed next to his husband.  Of course, it <em>does </em>require a bit of creative maneuvering for them both to fit, eventually with Caleb resting his head on Kaidan’s chest while Kaidan wraps his good arm around him, holding him close. </p><p>As he lies there, Caleb listens to the steady, even thrum of Kaidan’s heartbeat – easy enough to do as, like last time he was in hospital, he is shirtless.  It’s a soothing sound, calming, and soon his matches the rhythm, but it leaves Caleb holding him all the tighter. </p><p>“You know, I’d kind of like to keep my ribs,” Kaidan murmurs as he strokes his fingers through Caleb’s hair.</p><p>Disbelief etches new lines at the corners of Caleb’s eyes.  “How can you joke about this?”</p><p>“Because I am alive,” he replies, tugging him up close enough to kiss him lightly, “as are you, and we are going to be just fine…”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>** Trasna ort féin! = go cross yourself (go f**k yourself)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0073"><h2>73. Morning Workout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I was inspired months ago by <a href="https://theoriginalladya.tumblr.com/post/644778579361726465/spaceeeeeblog-yeah-okay-this-image-made-me">a piece of art </a>that made it's way across my dash over on tumblr, and it came across my dash again today.  This drabble is the result of that inspiration.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking slowly, lazily, and for the first time in a very long time, reluctantly, consciousness overtakes Caleb inch by inch, until one thing becomes far too clear; Kaidan isn’t in bed with him any longer.  It’s astounding, really, just how quickly he’s become used to his presence.  Normally, the cold doesn’t bother Caleb.  He’s lived through far worse in his life.  Hell, ICT taught him what real terror <em>could </em>be, and then how to survive it.  But this?  Without Kaidan lying next to him, a chill permeates the room and as a result, he’s cold.  It’s a situation that needs to be remedied ASAP and for reasons he can’t quite put into words; it’s just something he <em>knows</em>.</p>
<p>Stumbling out of the bed, he yanks on a pair of sweatpants then pads out into the main part of the apartment.  The overhead lights are dark and it’s quiet.  Rubbing at his eyes, he focuses all of his attention on his surroundings and collects himself. </p>
<p><em>Where are you?</em> </p>
<p>To his left, the other bedroom is dark, silent, still.  Ahead of him, in the distance and over the edge of the balcony he sees hints of the skycar traffic through the partly shut blinds on the windows in the living area below.  No music lilts from the piano this time, nor any mouthwatering aromas from the kitchen, either.  Opting to head forward, Caleb descends the stairs.  At the bottom, he peeks around the corner; the bar is empty and the vid screen off.  Turning toward the short hall just beneath the stairs, he finds the den dark and silent.  The kitchen is also empty, though the soft light over the sink <em>is</em> on.  That suggests someone has been there recently. </p>
<p>Caleb rubs his eyes again, stretching around a yawn as his feet meet cold tile.  He finds two empty mugs sitting on the counter next to a filled kettle.  Skimming his fingertips over the metal, he finds it cool to the touch.  <em>Not yet used</em>.  Closing his eyes again, he inhales deeply, stifling yet another yawn. </p>
<p>It’s then he hears it.  Just the faintest brush of fabric, the softest of grunts; all told, a whisper of sound, but just enough for his well-trained ears to catch.  A soft smile curves at his lips and Caleb continues to the back guest room. </p>
<p>The room has a dual purpose, one which he’s rarely put to the test since Anderson gifted this space to him, and that’s mostly due to the fact he rarely ever seems to have time to himself.  The light is on as he arrives, and he knows what he will find inside; the answer to his questions. </p>
<p>Leaning a shoulder against the door frame and folding his arms across his bare chest, he asks, “You mean I didn’t wear you out enough last night?”</p>
<p>Kaidan, halfway between the floor and the apex of his sit-up, jumps a little and half turns toward him.  Their eyes meet.  “Good morning.”  It’s impossible to miss the way his whiskey-colored eyes flicker with more than just a ‘hello’ in them.  A flutter fills Caleb’s belly in response. </p>
<p>Kaidan starts to rise, but Caleb waves him off, instead pushing away from the door and crossing through the room to join him.  He drops to the floor to sit opposite.  “Why didn’t you wake me?”</p>
<p>Kaidan chuckles softly.  “Didn’t have the heart,” he replies.  “You were pretty sacked out.  Besides, you’ve been under enough pressure of late.  Figured you could use the extra Z’s.”</p>
<p>“I could probably benefit from a good workout more,” Caleb counters.  To prove his point, he shifts around and quickly does ten push-ups. </p>
<p>Kaidan remains where he is, gaze focused solely upon him.  Though Caleb doesn’t look at him, he can feel the intensity of his partner’s attention.  “Oh, I don’t know,” Kaidan murmurs after a moment, his voice low, sultry and suggestive.  It takes every ounce of Caleb’s willpower to keep his arms from buckling underneath him in response.  “Looking pretty good to me, commander.”</p>
<p>Snapping his head upward, the air leaves Caleb’s lungs as their eyes meet.  “Heh,” he laughs after a second or two.  “<em>Some</em>one is in a <em>mood</em> this morning.”</p>
<p>Kaidan’s smug look turns into a full grin.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”</p>
<p>On the upwards end of a push-up, Caleb leans just enough forward so their lips nearly touch.  He walks his hands forward to rest on Kaidan’s feet as he leans in closer, this time connecting.  If Kaidan is surprised, he doesn’t show it.  If anything, he scoots just a little closer, sealing the connection, returning the contact with as much warmth and desire as Caleb.  When they break apart, they both breathe heavily. </p>
<p>Running his tongue over his lips, Caleb returns the grin, a hint of a flush creeping into his cheeks.  “Not bad at all.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0074"><h2>74. Taking Their Coat off for the Other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Intimacy Prompt:  Taking their coat off for the other</p><p>from the Biotic Pinball Wizard universe</p><p>Kandra Alenko, James Vega</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They take refuge in the burned-out carcass of a building set in the heart of yet another dead city laid to waste by the Reapers.  It shouldn’t leave Kandra so anxious and antsy, but she can’t help it.  Their journey across the country has bounced back and forth from one extreme to the other so many times over that having moments of quiet and peace are very…alien.  Almost frighteningly so.  At the moment, her nerves jitter so badly – like ants creeping along beneath the surface of her skin – that fighting the urge to scratch or rub the area until it goes away leaves her almost as dizzy as the defective implant in her head does.  And these days, especially since leaving Chicago, the urge is nearly constant.</p><p>
  <em>We need to be up higher.  At least then, they’d have to climb the walls to get to us, or fight their way past barricades we can put in place.  But..they’d just as easily come down from the rooftop, wouldn’t they?  Climb in through the broken windows, tear a hole in the floor or a wall, or even use the ventilation systems?  And we won’t even know they are there…</em>
</p><p>The scuff of booted feet breaks through her thoughts and she jumps, spinning around on her heel, her fingers already tickling a wave of dark energy into existence, preparing to release it…</p><p>“Hey, now, <em>princesa</em>!” Vega calls out in a mixture of amusement and hesitation.  “It’s just me!”</p><p>Her hand flutters as the energy dissipates, and she curses while glaring daggers at him.  “<em>Щоб тебе качка копнула!</em>”</p><p>As usual, Vega chuckles and approaches with caution.  “Heh.  Well, you’re yelling at me in Ukranian, right?  That’s better than it could be, I guess.”</p><p>With hands propped on her hips, she stomps a foot, stirring up a small whorl of dust and ash into the air between them.  “<em>That’s</em> all you have to say for yourself?  After scaring me like that?”</p><p>“Not sure what you said, so…yeah?”  He shrugs.   “What’s it mean, anyway?”</p><p>Turning away from him, she walks over to stare out the pane-less window at cloudy, darkened night skies.  God, what she’d give to see the moon and stars again.  “It means you should get kicked by a duck!”</p><p>“A duck?”  He follows her but stays out of arms reach.  “Really?  That’s the best you can do?”</p><p>“Ducks can be vicious,” she insists, her eyes still sparking with barely contained fire.  “And trust me, you don’t want any other Ukranian curses thrown at you.  They’re not nearly so nice.”  She has to fight back a twitch at the corner of her lips.  “At least ducks you can outrun.”</p><p>He chuckles again, and from one second to the next, the tension in the room eases to more comfortable levels.  A gentle tap pulls Kandra’s attention back around to find him nudging her upper arm with a protein bar.  “It’s not much,” he admits, true regret in his voice, “but it’ll get you through for a while.”</p><p>“Thanks.”  She uses her teeth to tear the wrapper open as she turns back to look out the window, nibbling at one end.  Her appetite hasn’t been what it should be since Chicago, not since Kaidan came back from that mission all battered, bruised, and bloodied.  She knows that, as a biotic, she needs to do more to fix that, too.  She’d been so worried then, wondering if her twin would even survive, she’d lost herself in doing what she could for him while Michael went back to doing what he does best: leading them forward. </p><p>But now, more than two weeks later and with Kaidan well on the mend, she still needs to pull herself together.  The only thing that has kept her going through all of this, really, has been James watching out for her, making sure she eats something, drinks enough water, gets rest when she’s tired.  It’s difficult to believe that just before they arrived in Chicago, they fought more like cats and dogs with each other. </p><p>Sudden warmth surrounds her, seeping in through her shoulders and neck.  She glances in James’ direction, and discovers the reason; a jacket, the hoodie he likes to wear when he’s out of uniform, now lies tucked around her.  It’s huge, hanging down well past her hips, but the warmth it provides is undeniable.  <em>And I didn’t even know I was cold.  </em>“James?”</p><p>His attention is out through the window when he replies sounding almost a little defensive. “What?  You had goose bumps all over your arms and neck.”</p><p>A small shiver runs up the back of her hands.  A quick look assures her his assessment is correct.  “I…thank you.”</p><p>That has him turning, a lazy smile stealing across his face, perhaps a hint of relief in his eyes.  “You bet.  Can’t leave my <em>princesa</em> freezing all night long, now, can I?”</p><p>She huffs softly and nibbles at the protein bar.  “You know, you’ve been calling me that for a while now,” she muses, a soft smile finding her lips this time.  “Are you trying to tell me something?”</p><p>Even in the dim light, it’s easy to see the flush that reaches his neck, ears and cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.  “Just…a nickname,” he assures her.  “Some people need names that match them better’s all.”</p><p>One brow arching, she watches him closely.  “And you think of me as a princess?”</p><p>“Heh.  Yeah.  Well, you see…  I tried calling you <em>Lola</em> a couple of times, but that just…”  He gulps and shifts uneasily before turning to leave.  “Never mind.”</p><p>Before he gets more than a few steps away, Kandra turns and grabs him by the arm.  She has no idea who Lola is, and she’s not sure she wants to know in all honesty, but she doesn’t want him leaving with this sort of awkwardness between them.  Not when she knows she owes him much more than that.  “Wait.  Please?”  He doesn’t look at her, but he stops.  “I want to thank you.”</p><p>A frown creases his brow as he finally glances down at her.  “You already did.”</p><p>“For the coat, yeah.”  Now that she has his full attention, she pulls her hand back.  “I mean for…everything.  For watching out for me in Chicago.  Making sure I ate.  Trying to keep me from worrying too much.  Reminding me when I needed to sleep, drink, that sort of thing.  I…was a bit preoccupied after Michael and Kaidan came back, and…”</p><p>The creases smooth out as understanding dawns.  Huffing softly, he reaches a hand out, brushes a few strands of her hair out of her face and nods.  “I know you and I didn’t start out too well when the Reapers arrived, but I’ve got your back, don’t you worry.”</p><p>There is a hell of a lot more sincerity in his eyes than she expects.  Not that she <em>doesn’t </em>expect it, but it’s rather intense.  Still, it’s reassuring.  “And I’ve got yours, James.  Whenever, however you need it.”</p><p>He looks about to protest, but must change his mind because he smiles instead.  “Thanks.  I’d…better go check on the others.  You gonna be okay up here by yourself?”</p><p>She looks back at the window, the mess of the room, and her earlier concerns return in a flood.  Deciding that being alone right now probably isn’t the best idea, she shakes her head.  “I’ll go with you, I think.  Safety in numbers, right?”</p><p>James’ smile deepens.  “Sounds like a good idea to me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0075"><h2>75. As we huddle together, the storm raging outside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt = As we huddle together, the storm raging outside  (The way you said I love you prompts)</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Michael Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: Biotic Pinball Wizard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some things – despite the war, the reapers, and the years – just don’t ever change.  Some things are always a constant. </p>
<p>
  <em>Sergeant Allen at Basic, screaming orders at the top of his lungs, mentally judging how fast the enlistees react…</em>
</p>
<p><em>Joelle’s attempts at singing </em>We Are Family<em> whenever things get bad and always, </em>always<em>, messing up the lyrics, no matter how hard she tries…</em></p>
<p><em>Captain Ellis and the weekly poker game aboard the </em>SSV Einstein<em>, his first deep space tour…   </em></p>
<p>
  <em>The springtime rains in the Midwest, flooding streets, drains, and fields alike, pouring down in dark, heavy sheets with thunder booming so strongly the buildings shake, the glass windows rattle, and the Mako jumps a little…</em>
</p>
<p>Michael huffs softly, staring out through the visual windows, twisting his torso awkwardly so he can get a good look upward, searching for the source of the lighting.  He pulls back a moment later with a grimace.  <em>Not in these clouds</em>.<em>  Not with the Reapers secure in their presence.</em></p>
<p>Behind him, the hatch to the Mako opens.  He doesn’t have to turn to know who it is that scrambles inside, soaked to the skin.  A lopsided grin slants across his lips and he pats the empty seat next to him anyway. </p>
<p>Kaidan shakes his head to remove the excess rain from his hair before he walks over.  Michael laughs and shields his head with his hands.  “Let me guess, you grew up with dogs, right?”</p>
<p>Chuckling softly, Kaidan drops into the empty seat and tosses over an energy bar.  Michael doesn’t hesitate; he opens it and scarfs it down in three bites.  “Sorry.”</p>
<p>“No problem.  Just, remember we’re in here to stay <em>dry</em>.  I know I need a shower, but…”</p>
<p>A shiver rolls across Kaidan’s shoulders as he pushes water from his clothing.  He’s soaked to the skin, and if the sight out the window didn’t prove it already, Michael now understands just how hard it is coming down outside.  There’s barely three hundred feet between the building and the vehicle and Kaidan is <em>drenched.</em>  “Here to relieve you,” Kaidan says after he’s done.</p>
<p>As if explanation is necessary.  Since leaving Chicago, Michael’s ordered watches taken from <em>inside </em>the Mako.  He doesn’t really expect Anton’s people will follow – they’ll be too unorganized now that their leader and his upper-level goons are gone – but the Reapers?  Cerberus?  That’s a different story, an unpredictable one.  “Not happening,” he replies.  It’s been a couple of weeks, but the memories are still fresh, the ache not quite gone.  This time <em>he</em> cannot suppress a shudder, but it has nothing to do with the rain.</p>
<p>“Shepard, I’m fine,” Kaidan insists.  “Let me take the watch so you can get some sleep.”</p>
<p>“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”</p>
<p>Kaidan huffs and scoffs, protesting, “Which you’ll be sooner, rather than later, because you are too damned stubborn to rest.”  But it’s a mild one, without any real heat behind it, and they both know it.</p>
<p>Michael pulls his attention from the windows briefly, wanting more than anything to reiterate his point – the scars on Kaidan’s body are still red, for all of his reassurances – but he cracks a yawn before words escape.</p>
<p>“See?”</p>
<p>His eyes narrow.  “You may outrank me, major, but I’m still in command of this mission.”</p>
<p>One thick, dark eyebrow rises, arching gracefully over Kaidan’s right eye.  “Am I supposed to be scared?” he asks, sounding anything but.  “Because, you know, quaking in my boots over here.”</p>
<p>For just a second, tension fills the space between them, building slowly, the prelude to a burst of anger or frustration… but in the next, it bursts like a bubble stretched too far, unable to hold its shape, and they laugh; soft giggles, rueful head shakes, a hint of red in the cheeks as they awkwardly avert the other’s gaze and regain their composure.  After several minutes of much needed release, Michael adjusts the virtual windows and nods to the seat behind them.  “C’mon, we can sit back here and watch.  Together.”</p>
<p>The seat has room enough for the two of them to sit beside one another, which they do, aided by a sudden wind gust that gently rocks the Mako.  Michael loses his balance and lands in Kaidan’s lap.  His initial reaction is to worry, of course; Kaidan is still recovering from Chicago.  “Shit!  Sorry!”</p>
<p>Kaidan, however, conveniently ignores the apology and wraps his arms around Michael’s waist, holding him in place.  “I’m not made of porcelain, you know,” he mumbles near his ear. </p>
<p>It’s on the tip of his tongue to make a flippant comment about how he can still break, but the fierce look in Kaidan’s dark eyes makes him think twice.  This is a man on the mend, sure, but one insistent on reclaiming his role.  Michael doesn’t have it in him to refuse.  Still, in some concern he shifts so most of his weight is on the seat rather than his lover, and although he’s now as soaked as Kaidan is, he remains in the loop of his arms.  Several minutes pass in silence, minutes where he is assured that Kaidan enjoys this just as much as he does by the way his breathing pattern settles to mimic his own.  Snuggling closer, Michael murmurs, “Kind of cozy, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>Kaidan snorts.  “You have a strange idea of cozy.  After the war, remind me to show you the proper definition.”</p>
<p>Another yawn breaks free and Michael slides his hand over to tangle with Kaidan’s while resting his head on his shoulder.  “Promise?”  His voice slurs, his eyes are barely open slits. </p>
<p>Kaidan smiles as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of Michael’s head and lazily runs his fingers up and down his arm.  “Absolutely.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0076"><h2>76. Holding hands while sleeping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>soft prompts = holding hands while sleeping</p>
<p>mShenko</p>
<p>Kristofer Shepard, Kaidan Alenko</p>
<p>OTP: All the Time in the World</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for such a short one - Kristofer's muse is starting to stir back to life, but he's still waking up! ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you sure you shouldn’t be down in the Medbay tonight?”</p>
<p>Kristofer huffs softly and slowly, carefully, adjusts his position in the bed as Kaidan climbs in.  “I will hurt you if you suggest that again,” he mutters irritably, punching the pillow he then tucks under his stomach as he rolls on top. </p>
<p>“You couldn’t hurt a fly,” Kaidan points out, turning off the light before settling down next to Kris.  “And that’s what worries me.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine by the time we get up; you’ll see.”</p>
<p>“Kris –”</p>
<p>Reaching behind him, again moving slowly, cautiously, Kristofer takes Kaidan’s hand and pulls it around his waist, threading their fingers together and tucking both hands close to his chest.  His voice is low and slightly slurred as he replies, “I’m fine, Kaidan.  Please, don’t worry.”  He’s halfway to unconsciousness in the speed lane, and says nothing else.</p>
<p>Kaidan snuggles up against Kristofer’s back, securing his arm.  Any further thought of protesting – and he has good reason too, Chakwas showed him the medical scans – is cut off with the soft rumble of snoring that slips past Kristofer’s lips.  It’s adorable, no doubt about it, plus it reassures him that the commander is, in fact, doing just fine.  Any residual pain, discomfort, or injury from their encounter with the reapers on Cyone earlier that day clearly do not bother him.  For now, at least.</p>
<p>Kaidan, on the other hand, cannot say the same.  Sure, he took a few bumps and bruises, but having to watch Kris go head-to-head with a brute at the fuel facility nearly took ten years off his life. </p>
<p>Kris sighs in his sleep, shifting slightly, just enough that a soft groan of discomfort escapes.  Kaidan forces himself to relax and curls around him, cradling him close.  If he can’t sleep, he can at least savor the fact they are together again.  That’s more than he had a couple of weeks ago.  And with the way the war is going, probably more than he has a right to hope for…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0077"><h2>77. Touching Someone Out of Necessity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>writing prompt: Touching someone out of necessity</p>
<p>Abboats</p>
<p>Abigail Williams, Major Coats</p>
<p>OTP: The Ties That Bind</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The constant grey – thick, oily smoke from still burning buildings and god only knows what else – darkens the skies over London to perpetual night.  No moon or stars to light the way or give hope.  Anything electrical is reduced to generators, and those are few and far between.  But somehow, some way, life persists.  Refugees huddle where they can; some beneath the city in the old Tube transit system, others fleeing out of London proper.  Others aren’t so fortunate, and of those who do remain, their numbers steadily dwindle…</p>
<p>She finds him in the commissary, or the small shed they’re using for it these days, looking as run down and exhausted as she feels.  Head dropped to his chest as he eats, smudges of soot and dirt on the few bare patches of skin she can see, shoulders sagging.  He’s eating, but with minimal movement, as if he hurts, or maybe he just doesn’t have the energy.  She gets that.  Her first thought as she slides into the seat across from him is he looks as bad as she felt the day she made N7… and it took her a week to recover fully from that.  If they ever get to the end of this bloody war, it’s going to take them all a lifetime to recover from it, and it’s still not guaranteed. </p>
<p>“Hey,” she greets him.</p>
<p>“Hey.” </p>
<p>A grunt more than spoken, due to food or exhaustion or something else, she isn’t certain.  Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the sniper rifle propped against the table.  His pack.  Other gear.  “Just back from the field?”</p>
<p>“Something like that.”  He continues to eat, without interruption.</p>
<p>Lieutenant Commander Abby Williams bites the corner of her lower lip.  He isn’t going to like what she has to tell him, she knows this, but there’s no way around it.  But to frame it as a request or an order is her current dilemma.  Since their initial meeting, they’ve run into one another a few times – hard not to when you’re making the same foxholes your HQ these days – and things between them have… improved somewhat.  Enough that when General Whitworth asked her to take on this mission, she knew exactly where to go for her team. </p>
<p>He reaches for the bottle next to his tray.  Water, beer, something else?  Who knows, but she needs his attention, and she needs it now, and he has a bit of a reputation where his attitude is concerned.  Hand darting out, she grasps his wrist securely.  “I need you mission ready in thirty.”  Mentally, she winces as the words are bitten out, barked almost, definitely a command.</p>
<p>Cold steel eyes peer up through dark lashes, anger bubbling away deep within.  “Last time I checked,” he growls darkly, eyes shifting briefly to her collar and then back to her face, “I outrank you.”</p>
<p>“I’m N7 and I’m pulling rank.”</p>
<p>He’s quick, much faster than anyone might think for someone as large and bulked up as he is, and shoots to his feet, slamming his fist onto the table with enough force it rattles his tray, his silverware, and his bottle tips, rolling off onto the floor, the contents spilling out unnoticed.  Abby follows him up a half second after he moves.  She barely reaches his shoulder, but it’s enough.  She isn’t afraid of him – she’s been through a hell of a lot worse than an Englishman and his temper and come out the other side fine – but she is afraid <em>for </em>him. </p>
<p>“Who the hell do you think you are?”</p>
<p>“I’ve got a mission and Whitworth told me to pick my team.  I chose you!”</p>
<p>Coats starts to retreat, leaning back from her, but she’s ready this time and reaches out, grabbing a handful of his fatigues and pulling him back.  He snarls at her.  “I <em>have </em>no team!  Lost ‘em all at Whitechapel!”</p>
<p>It’s the crack in his voice that hits her hardest, deepest, and she reacts on instinct.  Grasping his chin between her thumb and forefinger, she looks straight into his eyes.  “I know,” she says quietly, hoping the understanding translates for him.  He hates losing men; she does, too.  But this is war, and they’ve lost far too many, and so many more will be lost if they don’t go. </p>
<p>Her grip loosens a fraction and she gently strokes her thumb over his whiskered skin.  “Ryan, I need <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>He blinks, his breath catches roughly as his eyes widen.  She knows why – it’s the first time she’s used his given name.  She knows him as Hammersmith mostly, thanks to Shepard, and he introduced himself as Coats.  But in this moment, she relates all too well to his pain, and <em>that </em>is a far more personal thing than name or rank can share.</p>
<p>“Abbs…”</p>
<p>Abby blinks back tears.  The only one to ever call her that was Ashley, and it’s been far too long since she last heard her sister say it.  “I need someone on my six,” she murmurs, “and I trust you.  Think you can do that for me, soldier?”  She tosses a wink to soften the request.</p>
<p>With a heavy sigh, he drops back into his seat, nodding.  “Can I finish eating?” he asks after a minute.  “First hot meal I’ve had in a week.”</p>
<p>As she sits once more, she nods.  “Sure.  I’ll give you the mission brief while you do…” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0078"><h2>78. Look at me.  You're gonna be okay.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Protective Writing Prompt:  Look at me.  You're gonna be okay.</p>
<p>ABBOATS</p>
<p>Abby Williams, Major Ryan Coats</p>
<p>OTP: The Ties That Bind Us</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Commander?”  The voice – <em>his </em>voice – is soft, a hiss and barely audible, but she hears it.  Just loud enough to catch her attention as he seeks her out, but not to give away their position. </p>
<p>Her eyes squeeze shut as Abby grimaces; not because he spoke and it was loud enough to hear, but because the rush of pain coursing through her body just then makes far too much of a challenge to focus on anything else right now.  If she opens her mouth, instead of the whisper required in order to keep their location secret, the scream prying for freedom at the back of her throat will escape.  She can’t… <em>can’t </em>give in to that right now.  Not here.  Not <em>now</em>.</p>
<p>Something brushes against her arm and her she inhales sharply through her nose as her eyes fly open.  Everything is a blur at first, but there’s nothing to be done for it.  Again, not here. </p>
<p>“Williams?” </p>
<p>She draws in a deeper, slower breath this time and nods.  He might not see the movement, but he’s beside her.  It’s enough to give her something steady to lean on.  <em>Just for a moment</em>.</p>
<p>That is, until he bumps against her right hip, jarring it, and sending another wave of pain arcing through her with such intensity she literally buries her face in the chest of his armor to muffle the cry she cannot hold in.  His hands tighten around her arms as he hisses, “Abby!”  The warning in his tone is enough; her cry cuts short and her legs give out.  She falls, dead weight, toward the ground.</p>
<p>Impact never comes.  Coats’ hands tighten, preventing her from clattering to the ground.  Denied a connection with asphalt and cement, her armor knocks against his and not quietly. </p>
<p>Sounds stir to life in the night beyond them, a reminder of the ever-present danger they are in when on a mission.  Coats shifts to her side – her good one, thankfully – and slides one arm around her waist while looping hers around his neck and shoulders.  “What’s with you?” he hisses as they move forward, seeking out safety.</p>
<p>Abby shakes her head, unable to respond.  The agony is just too much.  As they step off a curb, she stumbles and his hand tightens it’s hold, then everything around her goes dark…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Consciousness comes slowly.  Abby is only slightly surprised that her eyes open again and with it, the darkness returns.  <em>Can’t have been too long, then.</em>  Though it takes longer than usual for her vision to focus, and the pain is still excruciating, she immediately starts listening.  The only thing she hears are the soft whimpers of a child. </p>
<p><em>A child?  </em>She blinks twice more, and her eyes finally clear enough to notice the grey eyes staring back at her.  She tries to speak, but his hand covers her mouth.  She blinks again, eyes widening as she realizes the whimpers come from her. </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been hit?” he hisses. </p>
<p>One of his eyebrows lift before his gaze darts to her hip and then back; she nods, pulling her lip between her teeth and biting down.  She can keep silent while he tends to her injuries.  <em>Hopefully</em>.</p>
<p>Abby knows exactly what he’s doing.  Every soldier gets a course in basic battlefield first aid.  At his rank, Coats may well have additional training; she doesn’t know.  Not that it’ll do much good for her situation, though.  Her best recourse is to get back to HQ ASAP and have the medical staff tend to it.  But she’s lost quite a bit of blood and, if the soft grunts Coats can’t hide is an indication, the wound itself isn’t superficial. </p>
<p><em>That’s problematic</em>.  <em>Face it, Williams, you may have hit the end of the line here…</em></p>
<p>She draws in a sharp breath as something cool is applied to her skin.  She recognizes it, though she wants to chastise Coats for resorting to it; it’s a waste for injuries like hers.  Medigel won’t be anywhere near effective as she needs it to be.   </p>
<p>“C’mon, soldier,” he huffs, sliding her arm around his shoulders and neck again, pulling her up to her feet and closer to him.  “We’ve got to get out of here.”</p>
<p>She tastes blood as she bites down on her lip.  “Leave me,” she breathes, unable to put weight on the leg.  “I’m just slowing you down.”</p>
<p>Without stopping, he half drags, half carries her along with him.  <em>Stubborn bastard, aren’t you?</em>  “If I leave you here, you’re as good as dead.”</p>
<p>“And if you don’t,” she counters, “we both are.”</p>
<p>They stumble through the shadows again, making up for lost time as they head east using the old Tube tunnels and train lines as a guide.  Even if they could make it back tonight – and in her current condition, that’s not very likely – there’s no guarantee she isn’t too far gone as it is.  Plus, it’s a hell of a long trip, and as slowed down as they will be, a far greater chance for the reapers to catch up to them. </p>
<p>Coats drags them into the shadows between two nearby buildings before he speaks again, and even then, it isn’t above a hoarse whisper near her ear.  "I’m not leaving you here, Abbs.”</p>
<p><em>Abbs.  Fuck, he’s not listening!</em>  “But –”</p>
<p>Even in the shadows, surrounded by night skies on all sides, she can’t miss the dogged determination that fills the steel grey of his eyes.  “Not happening.  Now, belt up and –”</p>
<p>In the distance, the familiar snarls and growls they’ve come to associate with husks and other reaper creatures drift ever closer.  Abby places her hands on his chest and shoves him with all the strength she has in that moment which, granted, isn’t much.  “Go!  Save yourself!”</p>
<p>He captures her chin in his hand and forces her to look up at him.  She would look away if she could, but the intensity there refuses to let go.  “Look at me,” he insists as he uses his free hand to brush some of her hair back from her eyes.  “You’re gonna be okay.  I promise."</p>
<p>She has no reasonable explanation for it, but in that moment, she believes him…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0079"><h2>79. I'll get you out of this.  Trust me.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Protective Writing Prompt:  I'll get you out of this.  Trust me.</p>
<p>ABBOATS</p>
<p>Abby Williams, Major Ryan Coats</p>
<p>OTP: The Ties That Bind Us</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>“So, we’re really doing this?”</p>
<p>Coats chuckles softly and wraps an arm around Abby’s shoulders, pulling her close.  She doesn’t refuse it.  “Darlin’, <em>you </em>are doing this, remember?  I’m stayin’ here where it’s safe.”</p>
<p>She tilts her head up at him, a somber expression on her face, but it quickly dissolves into a short laugh wrapped with regret.  They’ve come a long way together; leaving him behind like this doesn’t just hurt, it <em>aches, </em>and in ways she can’t really put into words for herself, let alone him.  She and Coats have become more than just battle buddies in the weeks since the war began.  They’ve saved each other’s necks multiple times over; they know the other’s ins and outs as well as they know their own.  But to end that like this…?</p>
<p>Abby leans up on her tiptoes and ghosts a kiss across his cheek.  “See that you do, y’hear?”</p>
<p>Coats loops his arms around her waist to hold her steady.  In the distance, the <em>SSV London </em>is nearly ready to go.  The last of the refugees fleeing to the Citadel are boarding, the few Alliance troops that can be spared are escorting them.  Abby happens to be one of them.  “You pulling rank on me again, <em>Folaithe</em>?”</p>
<p>Abby sniffs and stares at his chin.   If she looks in his eyes, the tears from flow far too freely.  “You’re far too stubborn for your own good, <em>Mharú</em>.”</p>
<p>“I seem to recall we’ve had this discussion a time or two.  No one’s as stubborn as –”</p>
<p>“An Irishman,” she finishes for him.  “Right.  I’ll be sure to let <em>Sealgaire </em>know your opinion should I run into him.”</p>
<p>Silence blankets them, but it’s comfortable if bittersweet.  In truth, Abby doesn’t <em>want </em>to leave.  She’s found her place here, helping take the fight to the reapers.  But she’s N7, and her skills better serve the greater cause; she knows that, and so does he. </p>
<p>He tilts her chin up, their eyes meeting finally.  Abby swallows past a quick growing lump of emotion attempting to choke her.  “Ryan…”</p>
<p>“Go on, Abbs,” he murmurs, but there’s a hitch in his voice too.  “Not like you to procrastinate when you know there’s a job that needs to be done.”</p>
<p>Another convulsive swallow leaves her voice raspy.  “I’ll be back, I promise.  I’ll get you out of this.  Trust me.”  God help her, she’ll lead the fight all the way back to Earth herself if she has to.  Everything, every<em>one</em> she’s ever loved is here.  <em>I’m </em>not <em>abandoning them!  I’m not!</em></p>
<p>A smug smirk tilts at one corner of his lips.  “Oh, but I do trust you.  Why else do you think I let you order me around?” </p>
<p>It’s the wink he gives her at the end that triggers the giggles… and the tears that gush forth.  He draws closer and she slides her arms around his shoulders as he lifts her off the ground, tightening their embrace.  The touch of his lips, sensuous and strong as always, on hers have an almost desperate quality this time.  This certainly isn’t what she expected because it only makes saying goodbye that much more difficult. Then again, she doesn’t blame him, either, and returning the kiss in full is the easiest thing she’s done since before the war began.  When they break apart, he sets her back on the ground, resting his forehead against hers while framing her face with his hands.  “You take care of yourself; you hear?  No runnin’ off and playing hero.  Let Shepard save his own arse for once.”</p>
<p>Huffing softly, she manages a smile.  “You know me.”</p>
<p>He slides his arms back around her, stronger than steel bands and far more comfortable.  “Aye, I do,” he murmurs near her ear.  “And I’d like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>“Commander, it’s time,” a voice calls over from just outside the <em>London</em>.</p>
<p>Abby has to force her fingers to loosen, sliding off his shoulders.  “Last boarding call, I guess,” she quips before pushing up to kiss him one last time.  <em>For luck.  </em>“Stay safe.  I’ll be back before you know it.  Long before you’ll ever miss me.”</p>
<p>Coats releases her, but takes his time doing so while huffing softly in the process.  “Not bloody likely.”  He runs a hand over her hair until it comes to cradle the back of her head.  “I’m serious, Abbs, no heroics.  ‘Kay?”</p>
<p>“Who, me?”  Her fingers linger as they finish trailing down his arms.  Giving him one last, long look, she grabs her gear and walks away without glancing back.  She can’t, truth be told.  If she does, she’ll never board the ship.  And he’s right; she has to go. </p>
<p>Before she’s even twenty feet away, she swears she hears him whisper, <em>Go dté tú slán</em>.  <em>May you go safely. </em></p>
<p>Heart aching, Abby picks up her pace.  Only as she steps through the hatch does she dare a quick look back in his direction… and is met by nothing but emptiness.  As the door closes behind her, she whispers out into the night air, “<em>Nár laga Dia thú</em>, my love…”**</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>** Nár laga Dia thú  =  May God never weaken you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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